Hogwarts University
by Zarra Rous
Summary: It's time for Harry and the others to go to College where else would they go but Hogwarts University. An answer to Severitus' Challenge except happens later. Hiatus. I may return to this at some point since people have expressed interest.
1. Prelude

Forgive me if this starts off a bit weird, I started it at three in the morning and continued it the next afternoon when I was actually awake. I hope you enjoy this short little prelude of sorts to my and Miss Vesdemort's 'Hogwarts University'.

Disclaimerus: Me no own, you no sue. The only characters that are ours are the ones not from HP, but inspired by it.

Authors Notes: This is a sort of answer to the Severitus challenge. The difference between this and her original challenge is that this is set after Harry has already graduated from Hogwarts secondary school and is now a student at Hogwarts University, a very selective and highly respected institution of higher learning. This is going to be a very long story, and I doubt that my coauthor and I will bring the truth about Harry and Severus out until at the least chapter seven if not after that. There will be new characters and new houses, but don't worry all will be explained over time throughout the story. Reviews are always welcome, but flames will be fed to my Fire Kraken. Blessings be.

*******

Prelude

*******

            As always Harry, Ron, and Hermione were glad to be getting on the Hogwarts Express. This year was special though, because it was their seventh and last year at the school.

            Trying to find an empty compartment was hard because of all the first years, however they did find one that was for the most part empty. It was like the one in which they had found Professor Lupin back in their third year, empty save for a sleeping professor. This professor was different from Lupin however in that 'it' was a 'she'. She appeared to be around Lupin's age, with a waist length auburn braid over her shoulder, and dark blue half-moon framed sunglasses covering her eyes. Her robes were green with sliver sleeves, open to reveal black slacks, a white blouse covered by a black vest; black boots on her feet.

            Neither Ron nor Harry could contain the soft "Wow" that escaped them.

            "Do you think that she could be the new DADA professor?" Hermione asked softly so as to not disturb the professor.

            "Probably," Harry answered, "we do seem to get a new one every year."

            "Well, well, well, if it isn't Potter, Weasel, and the Mudblood. Getting ready for another year…"

            Draco was cut off when the woman professor yawned and opened her eyes to glare at him.

            "Great, another Malfoy." The professor yawned again as she took in the other occupants of the room. "And a Weasley, I see. Umm you four are all I need. Insufferable morning people."

            "Excuse me?"

            Turning her glare on Hermione the professor explained in sleep-deepened tones, "I never get up before noon if I can help it, and morning people drive me insane."

            At that moment the food trolley lady stopped at their door, "Can I get you dears anything?"

            The professor scowled at her, "Coffee, black, six teaspoons of sugar."

            The trolley lady smiled indulgently at the grumpy professor and conjured up the requested beverage. "Just as you've always liked it m'dear, piping hot and full of sugar. It's good to know that your tastes haven't changed since you were a student."

            "Nice to see you too. Just hand over the coffee and no one gets hurt."

            The trolley lady handed over the steaming mug and laughed as the younger woman swallowed it in one gulp.

            Sighing contentedly the professor handed the mug and a few sickles to the waiting lady. "Thanks Candace that hit the spot." As soon as Candace had taken care of the students, the professor turned to them and smiled apologetically. "Sorry bout earlier, I just am not myself without that first cup of coffee or tea in the morning. Name's Professor Alendi Dragnon from Hogwarts University and you all are?"

            "Harry Potter."

            "Ron Weasley."

            "Draco Malfoy."

            "And I'm Hermione Granger. Are you really a professor at the University? I read that only fifty students are invited to attend per year. Is that true?"

            "Yes, I am a professor at the University, and yes, only fifty are allowed per year. There are two hundred students total and in this years upcoming class only thirteen are from Hogwarts itself."

            "Really?"

            "We are reputed to be the best University of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the world, or so I've always heard tell."

            Draco sneered at the professor. "So what are you doing on the Hogwarts Express then? Surely not recruiting students."

            "I'm taking this week off from my classes to observe the thirteen selected students, so that I can, at the end of the week, announce if they are indeed the best choices for the university."

            "Oh I'd love to go there." Hermione was practically drooling at the thought that thirteen of the best students had been selected for the most prestigious magic university in the world.

            "As many others do my dear. However the standards for those who are to be invited are quite possibly the highest of any university, save for perhaps several muggle universities."

*******

            "Once you enter this hall you will be sorted into one of the four houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. You will then join your classmates and the feast will begin."

            Alendi stood at the back of the group of eager and nervous first years with a small smile, watching as they took their first steps towards becoming full witches and wizards, and for some of them eventually becoming students at the University. During the sorting she stood just within the doors of the great hall and waited for Headmaster Dumbledore to announce her.

            When the sorting was over Dumbledore stood and addressed the students giving the standard warnings that the Forbidden Forest was off bounds and that Hogsmeade visits were for those with permission only. "For those of you who are not in Slytherin... I'm sure, will be glad to know that Professor Snape is on a short sabbatical and will return at the start of next month. And now to introduce a special guest who will be staying with us for this coming week to observe the student body, Professor Alendi Dragnon is from our sister school, Hogwarts University. Professor if you could?" Dumbledore indicated Snape's empty seat at the head table for her to sit at.

            "Of course Professor Dumbledore. But if I may I would like to make an announcement to everyone." When he indicated that she could continue Alendi started to slowly walk the length of the hall as she spoke. "As you heard I am Professor Alendi Dragnon, of Hogwarts University. I am not here to judge any of you. Those who are to be invited to the university have already been chosen. There are three from Slytherin, three from Gryffindor, three from Ravenclaw, and four from Hufflepuff. The decision of the entry committee cannot be revoked, except if one of you decides to do something extremely stupid in the next week. Should that happen I have the authority to un-invite you. However, that would be most unpleasant, because should the committee decide otherwise I would make your classes with Professor Snape seem like a walk in the park, once I get you in my classes, and to be sure, you will all get me as a professor at some point or another. And don't think it's an idle threat either. Who do you think Severus learned it from?" Alendi sat down while the entire hall was dead silent, except for the bright peals of laughter coming from the professors. "Well why aren't you all eating?"

            As soon as all of the occupants of the hall were eating again Professor McGonagall leaned over and whispered to Alendi, "Well done."

            "I thought so. Nothing better than putting the fear of God into students, don't you agree Minerva?"

            "Only if they're Slytherin's Alendi."

            Alendi gave Minerva a sideways glance before she started to laugh. "But Minerva, I was in Slytherin."

            Minerva's eyes showed a mischievous amusement. "But dear, everyone knows you're a Gryffindor at heart."

            "If I were meant to be a Gryffindor, Minerva, I'd be a Gryffindor, not a Britholden girl."

            "Well that's true enough. Do you suppose that any of the girls invited this year will make it into your house?"

            "Maybe. You never know, after all Luna Jinxy was sorted into Britholden, and she was a Hufflepuff. I never saw that one coming."

            "None of us did." Minerva looked thoughtful for a moment. "Who else got in that year from Hogwarts? I can't seem to recall."

            Alendi's smile faltered, falling into a very Snape like scowl.  "Our dear Ms. Riddle.  As much as I love the girl, she's scary."

            "Considering her relations, it's no wonder."

*******

            The serious expressions on both women's faces drew the attention of the three friends from Gryffindor.

            "What do you think they're talking about to make them become so serious all of a sudden?"

            Ron rolled his eyes at his girlfriend, Hermione.  "They're probably talking about the greasy git..."

            "Ron!"

            "Well he is one. Honestly 'Mione, they're probably talking about who got invited to the University."

            "He might be right Hermione," Harry said softly.

            Hermione turned her head to glare at her and Ron's best friend, but paused once she got a good look at him.  "Where are your glasses?"  His glasses were gone, no longer hiding the brilliant green of his eyes, which were set in a pale face framed by straight chin length black hair.  "And your hair..."

Harry blushed under his friend's scrutiny.  "I let my hair grow out over the summer."

            "But the glasses Harry. What did you do with them?  I mean you were wearing them when you were at the Burrow last month," Ron's eyebrows were scrunched together in thought.  "Weren't you?"

            "I was; but I didn't really need them. I never have; not really."

            Hermione tilted her head sideways to stare at him. "Then why wear them?"

            "At first it was because the Dursley's made me, you know, to keep the other kids away from me.  And then later it was because of my father.  It made me feel closer to him, having something in common with him."

            "But why aren't you wearing them now?"

            Harry looked thoughtful for a moment.  "I think someone took them while we were taking a nap after lunch on the train.  It's the only time I took them off today and the only time when someone could have taken them."

            "I bet it was Draco," Ron stated.

            Harry shrugged, "Maybe. It's no real loss though."

            "But Harry..."

            "It doesn't matter much. I hated those things anyways."

*******

            The next couple of days went by uneventfully, except for Longbottom's usual melted cauldrons. Professor Dragnon had agreed to take over teaching the Potions classes while she was there; Professor Snape not due back for another two weeks.

            "Honestly Mr. Longbottom, how on god's green earth were you able to melt your cauldron when we were making nothing harder than a basic pain relieving draught?"  Alendi sat heavily on the stool behind Severus's desk and started to rub the bridge of her nose. "It's a good thing you'll never have me for any classes past this week Mr. Longbottom. Five points from Gryffindor for the melted cauldron, and ten points to you Mr. Potter for your quick reaction time in rescuing Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Granger."  Glancing at him she sighed. "You may go visit Madam Pomfrey to get those boils taken care of. And that'll be five points from Slytherin for laughing Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Parkinson." She glanced at her watch. "As soon as you finish your potions and clean up you may all go."

*******

            Sitting in the classroom after classes that evening grading papers, Alendi was interrupted when Professor McGonagall knocked on the door and entered.

            "Good evening, Minerva."

            "How were your classes today?"

            "They were fine.  Longbottom, on the other hand, melted his cauldron."

            "Wouldn't be the first time."  Minerva shook her head.  "The boy is hopeless when it comes to just about everything, except Herbology."

            "Is he going to a University for that then?"

            "Of course. He's going to be invited to Oxford University's Laren School of Nature Studies and Herbology."

            "That's wonderful. Not very many students' get invited to that school. It's highly competitive to get in."

            "Yes, I know. Hogwarts has only had six ever invited to go and twelve accepted as applicants."

            "Quite the coup."

            "Indeed.  Nearly as prestigious as getting invited to Hogwarts University."

            "More so actually, seeing as more students are invited from Hogwarts for the University than are invited to Laren."

            "True. Thirteen from this year alone."

            "And twelve from last year, three from the year before."

            "And nine from Ms. Riddle's year.  Who are this year's invitee's?"

            Alendi smiled at that.  "You know I'm not supposed to tell until the end of the week.  But since I know you won't tell anyone and because there are only two days left..." Alendi motioned for Minerva to sit.  "I'll tell.  Who do you want to know first?"

            Minerva thought for a moment.  "Hufflepuff."

            Alendi laughed softly.  "Figures.  Tara Hintly, Susan Bones, Justin Finch Fletchly, and Mary Jently."

            "Ravenclaw."

            "Richard Stone, Kevin Lint, and Barbara Barados."

            "Slytherin."

            "Sabina Weilsey, Severa Valfoy, and our dear Mr. Malfoy."

            Minerva grimaced.  "Dear indeed, and his cousin as well."

            Alendi nodded.  "I've heard of her problem with authority."

            "Problem? Prob_lems_. As far as she's concerned, she knows everything, and the only reason she's in school is because she won't disgrace her family name."

            "Oh, one of _those_.  No matter.  If she is sorted into Britholden, Vesdemort will work on her.  If not-" Alendi shrugged.  "Then she won't last very long."

            Minerva nodded.  "Gryffindor."

            Alendi smiled again.  "You'll be quite pleased with who's been invited from your house."

            "Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley then I presume."

            Alendi nodded.  "Got it in one, as the Americans say."

            Minerva looked very pleased.  After a moment she stood.  "Well, I must be going.  How would you like to see a Quidditch game this Saturday?"

            "Who's playing?"

            "I'm going to talk to Madam Hooch and see if we can arrange a game between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

            "How about suggesting three games?  One game be against Hufflepuff and one against Ravenclaw, then one between the winners."  

            "Good suggestion.  I'll see what can be arranged."  Minerva moved to the door.  "I'll see you later at dinner."

            "Good evening, Minerva."

*******

            That Friday it was posted in all the common rooms that a non-season tournament between the houses would take place that weekend.  

            "Look at this Harry!  We're playing Ravenclaw first.  Slytherin'll flatten Hufflepuff of course so we'll be playing Slytherin on Sunday."

            Harry nodded absently at his overexcited friend.  He was too busy trying to work out a puzzle in his mind.  "Ron, what do you think of Professor Dragnon?"

            "...we need another Beater though, lost the one that graduated. Maybe Dean or Seamus will play, or Larry Flint from third year. I heard that he's a good beater." Ron paused when he realized that Harry was staring at him blankly.  "What?"

            Harry repeated his question.

            "Professor Dragnon."  Ron thought for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together.  "She's good at potions.  Much nicer than the greasy git.  Why?"

            Harry shook his head.  "I don't know.  She seems familiar, but I can't place her though."

            Ron shrugged.  "Maybe she was a friend of your Mum's in school."

            Harry nodded and stared into the fire in the common room's fireplace, slipping deeper into the wing chair he was sitting in, unconsciously mimicking Professor Snape's scowl.  "I'll have to check the photo album then."

            "Why?"

            Hermione slapped Ron's arm.  "Don't be a git.  Hagrid owled all of the friends of Harry's parents for the pictures.  If she was a friend of theirs then naturally..."

            Ron's eyes widened with comprehension.  "She'd be in there; I knew that.  Any ways, as I was saying, maybe we should have that third year Larry Flint be our new beater."

            Harry just ignored his friends after he rolled his eyes at Ron's little comment.  He was deep in his thoughts, trying to understand what, if any, connections Professor Alendi Dragnon had with his parents.

*******

            "So, are you going to tell him?"

            Alendi looked up from the potions essays she was grading to look at the wizard standing in the doorway.  "Tell who what, Albus?  Tell Mr. Potter that I was his mother's best friend in school, and that I dated his father?  What good'll that do?"

            Albus smiled benevolently and looked at her over his glasses.  "Any connection with his parents would be most warmly welcomed by our young Harry."

            Alendi shook her head and looked at the floor, her face a study in emotional pain.  "It hurts too much, Albus.  The pain of their betrayal...and then Severus cut me off and won't answer any of my letters..." Alendi let out a sob when Albus place a comforting hand on her shoulder, leaving it there as she collected herself.  "It's not fair, Albus," she said weakly, her voice hoarse from the repressed tears.

            "Life is rarely fair, child, but that is why we all must do our best to make the world into a better place.  Talk to him; tell him about his mother."

            "I can't... not yet," Alendi said, knowing that Albus would be disappointed in her.  Albus frowned down at her for a moment, before shaking his head sadly.

            "This may be your last chance to tell him."

            "He's been invited.  I'll talk to him when I'm ready."

            Albus smiled sadly.  "Don't take too long or you'll lose the chance to get to know your best friend's son.  And that would be a great loss, for both of you."

            "I will someday, Albus.  Just not today."

*******

            That Sunday afternoon, the entire school gathered to watch the conclusion of the mini-tourney. Slytherin was going up against Gryffindor after they had spectacularly beaten Hufflepuff the day before.

            "And that's another spectacular block by Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley.  Go Ron!"

            "Dean!"

            "Sorry Professor, just calling it like it is.  And Gryffindor has the quaffle.  Score!  And the score's now Gryffindor 120, Slytherin 100.  Go Gryffindor!"

            "Dean!"

            "Sorry Professor...Potter makes a sudden dive.  Has he seen the Snitch?  Slytherin seeker Draco Malfoy's hot on his heels.  And that was a beautifully deflected bludger by Gryffindor's newest beater, third year Larry Flint.  Welcome to the team Larry."

            "Mister..."

            "And Gryffindor's best ever seeker-"

            "Dean!"

            "-Harry Potter has once again triumphed-"

            "Dean!"

            "-over the Slytherins.  Gryffindor wins 290 to 100!"

            Alendi patted Minerva on the back, trying to get her to calm down.  Minerva was red cheeked after having yelled at Dean Thomas throughout most of the game.  Dean seemed to have followed in his predecessor's path, by inserting house loyalties into his running commentary of the game.

            "It's all right Minerva.  It's just a bit of fun."

            "But the announcer should be unbiased in their reporting."

            "I hate to tell you Minerva, but even the Pro announcers are like that."

            "I know..." Minerva trailed off.

            The stadium went silent as Headmaster Dumbledore stood and held his hands up for quiet.  "Thank you all for participating in this special miniature tournament.  This has been the first time in a number of years for our guest professor to see a Hogwarts game, she herself having been on her house team in her day.  I propose an exhibition match between Seekers.  Professor Alendi Dragnon versus our Gryffindor seeker, Mister Harry Potter.  Ms. Dragnon?"

            Alendi looked surprised at Albus.  "But Albus, I was only the reserve seeker."

            Albus smiled as he turned to look down at her.  "Only because you let Severus catch the Snitch first."

            "That was never proven."

            "Good then."  Albus turned back towards the audience.  "Mr. Potter?"

            Harry flew near to the professors' stands.  "I'm game.  She'll need a broom though."

            Alendi glanced at Harry as she stood and moved to the edge of the stands.  "Accio Infinity Draco," she said as she quirked her left eyebrow at Harry.  "Think you can beat me little boy?  I'm a top rate Quidditch coach and professional seeker."

            "So, I've already got a spot on the Chudley Cannons after university, and standing offers from three other teams."

            "Holyhead Harpies," Alendi paused as her Infinity came to a dead stop between her and Harry.  "Seeker for six years; Britholden House seeker, four years; Slytherin chaser and reserve seeker, six years.  Add on coaching my house team and refereeing for the past three years."  Alendi mounted her broom, fondly patting the silver, green, and purple etching of a dragon on the handle.  "Still think you can beat me little one?"

            "Any day," Harry said before flying to the middle of the pitch, closely followed by Alendi.  Once stopped he continued,  "I don't brag either."

            "It's not bragging, I was stating a fact.  It's normal for exhibition matches for both seekers to tell each other of their training.  Keeps everything on the level."

            Harry nodded.  "Gryffindor seeker, seven years at the end of this season."

            Alendi bowed slightly and looked at him expectantly when she straightened until he mirrored her.  "Every formality.  Exhibition matches are like duels, formal to all hell."  This prompted Harry to start laughing, Alendi quickly joining in. Both fell silent when Madam Hooch came up between them.

            "Clean match, both of you.  Everything within the pitch, including the stands, are in bounds.  Everything else is out."

            "And Madam Hooch is about to release the Snitch...and it's off!"

            Alendi flew after the Snitch, Harry at her side, followed closely by the bludgers.  Alendi dodged one, cursing softly, as it came whizzing at her head.  "Bloody hell, that was a close one."

            Harry ducked the second bludger.  "What's with the bludgers?"

            Alendi glanced at him quickly.  "Makes things more interesting for the audience." Alendi paused as she, quickly followed by Harry, went straight up along the wall of the Hufflepuff stands, leveling out fifty meters above it.

            "Bloody hell, I lost it."  Alendi glance at the ground a hundred meters below, searching for the Snitch.  "The bludgers are also to keep us on our toes.  Mr. Potter!"  Alendi cried his name as Harry did a sudden nosedive straight at the Slytherin stands.  Catching sight of what he was after, Alendi followed, narrowly dodging one of the bludgers as it crossed her path.

            "And it's a race to the Snitch.  Who's going to catch it?  Gryffindor's very own Harry Potter or the beautiful visiting Potions Professor?  It's anyone's guess.  Potter's the youngest seeker in a century and very much naturally talented.  The Professor has a first generation Infinity and Harry has a first generation Firebolt.  Both are evenly matched, so this game's all up to the skill of the...OH HOLY MERLIN!  Both Potter and Dragnon have taken a ten meter fall and the Snitch is nowhere in sight.  Could either of them have caught it during the fall?"

            Alendi struggled to breathe, as she lay unmoving at the base of the Slytherin stands, Harry lying next to her, groaning in pain.  "Bludger, that hurt."

            "Owie..."

            "Ditto, kid.  Ditto."  Alendi groaned as Professor Dumbledore helped her stand up, Harry letting out a low curse as Madam Hooch helped him up.

            "So, who caught it?" a snobbish male voice from the surrounding crowd asked.

            "Ten points from Slytherin Mr. Malfoy."  Alendi motioned for Minerva to come near her.  Once she was within reach, Alendi handed her something.  "Experience over blind luck Mr. Potter.  Even if sometimes it doesn't prevent midair collisions and horrifyingly painful falls."  

            Harry laughed as he held up his empty hands to the crowd.  "There are first times for everything.  Even me not catching the Snitch."  

            Minerva held up the tiny golden ball.  "Professor Dragnon wins the exhibition match by catching the Golden Snitch.  Congratulations Professor."

            Alendi smiled before her eyes rolled up and she fainted dead away, Albus barely catching her before she hit the ground.

*******

            The next morning Alendi awoke in the hospital wing, the sun streaming through the windows and lighting up the ward.

            "You seem to have made many fans among the students."

            Alendi turned her head away from her contemplation of the windows to where Headmaster Dumbledore stood next to her bed.  "When do I get released?"

            Albus had his usual benevolent smile on his face as he sat on the foot of her bed.  "This afternoon.  Dean Palmerdore has already been informed of your delay.  He is having the prefect of Britholden House continue to teach your classes until you return."

            Alendi nodded.  "Karen Bailfree of Salem.  She's a good girl, that's why I chose her over the other two fourth year girls in my house to take over my classes for the past week.  She's scheduled to start work at the American Ministry in June.  Miss Riddle will be prefect next year.  Brilliant student.  Scary, but brilliant."

            "Ah, yes, our dear Ms. Riddle.  I remember when she transferred into Hogwarts for her seventh year.  Severus' favorite student, if I recall."

            "Yes, she's mentioned that.  She's quite proud of the fact that she's the only student, ever, who can claim that."

            "Yes, well... to each their own I suppose." Albus stood and moved to leave. "You may make the announcement at dinner this evening.  The Express will be ready to take you to the University in the morning.  It leaves at 11 o'clock sharp."

            Alendi nodded. "Thank you, Albus." She looked at the previously ignored pile of candy, cards, and gifts on the bed next to hers.  "Fans indeed."

*******

            "Those who are invited, be patient, you'll get your letters soon enough, making my announcement of your candidacy official." Alendi smiled.  "Just kidding.  All invites are final as of tonight.  They are as follows: Barbara Barados, Ravenclaw; Susan Bones, Hufflepuff; Justin Finch-Fletchly, Hufflepuff; Hermione Granger, Gryffindor; Tara Hintly, Hufflepuff; Mary Jently, Hufflepuff; Karen Lent, Ravenclaw; Draco Malfoy, Slytherin; Harry Potter, Gryffindor; Richard Stone, Ravenclaw; Severa Valfoy, Slytherin; Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor; and Sabina Weilsey, Slytherin." 

            Alendi smiled at the excited faces and the cheering of the students.  She was glad to be going home in the morning, but she had admitted to herself that she would miss teaching Potions.  '_Teaching Harlotry is all fine and well and good_,' she thought. '_But Potions are my passion._  _Ah well, perhaps I can convince Dean Palmerdore to let me have Potions if anything happens to Tamera.  Heaven knows Tamera Sabet is not the brightest Potions Mistress out there.'_ Alendi sighed. '_Ah well.  No use worrying about it now.  I'll just have to arrange something with my girls in regards to Madame Sabet.'_  "Yes indeed, we'll see about that."

            Minerva leaned over.  "See about what?"

            Alendi jolted out of her thoughts and looked at the woman who was sitting next to her at the great table.  "Pardon?"

            "You said that you'll see about something.  See about what?"

            The half lie came to Alendi's lips easily, "Just a little Potions extra credit for some of my third and fourth year girls."

            Minerva nodded.  "Well, good luck with it then."

            "Thank you," she said as she stood and turned to leave, lovingly patting the pair of round black-framed glasses in her pocket.  She had packing to do. '_Next year's going to be interesting at the University, to say the least.'_

*******

Next: Welcome to Hogwarts University


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts University

;) Hogwarts University School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

Dean: Seren A.D. Palmerdore

            We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts University of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment for your first term.

            Term begins August 23. We await your owl by no later than June 19.

Yours in all sincerity,

_  Eleanor McGaver_

Eleanor McGaver

Associate Dean

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… **Uniform**

            First year students will require in addition to previous uniform:

            1. One set dress robes (any color)

            2. One winter cloak (red or blue, gold fastenings)

            Be sure to note that all students' clothes should carry nametags or identifying 

            symbols.

**Course Books**

            All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_            The Standard Book of Spells (Advanced Edition)_ by Edward Dodson and Miranda Goshawk

_            Magical Theory and Research Methods_ by Kurt Bluestocking

_            A Modern History of Magic _by Gabriella Bruja

_            Advanced Potions and Drafts for Dummies_ by Adelbert Fiddlesticks

_            1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_            Beginners Guide to Transfiguration for University Students _by Elenda Transformati

_            Curses, Hexes, and their Counters_ by Severus Snape

_            Muggles in the Medieval Period_ by Harold L'istorique

**Other Equipment**

            1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 4)

            3 sets glass or crystal phials (Please note that extra phials are needed in case of breakage)

Students may also bring an owl, or a cat, or a toad, or a snake. If students have a special request, please owl the Associate Dean.

Students are reminded that first years are not allowed racing brooms.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

For those first years that are interested, Hogwarts University's houses are divided by professional interest. They are as follows:

Gryffindor

Legal Studies, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Flying

Slytherin

Business/Politics, Charms, and Potions

Hufflepuff

Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination

Ravenclaw

Medical Studies, Arithmancy, and Charms

Britholden

Harlotry, Potions, and Astronomical Studies (females only)

Piagera

Teaching (all subjects)


	3. The Replacement Professor

Hogwarts University

by Zarra Rous Terria & Miss Vesdemort 

Disclaimerus: see Prelude.

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Chapter One – The Replacement Professor

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August 23 – dawn

            "Alendi Dragnon, Britholden House, Hogwarts University."

            Yawning, a young-looking woman rolled out of bed, running a hand through her long auburn hair, her hazel eyes bleary. Staring out the bay window across from her bed, she grumbled, "No one should have to get up this early, _especially_ me." Picking up her wand from the floor, she gave it a quick swish, shutting the curtains, once again letting the room fall into darkness. "Oh well, at least the girls are getting back this afternoon. Hmmm… and I need to remember to tell that stupid sorting hat of Professor Dumbledore's not to try to put more than three girls in my house again. I swear that thing knows that only twelve girls are allowed into this house at any given time. That thing does it to annoy me."

            "Of course it does Alendi."

            "It does, it really does. I just know..." Stopping her rant, Alendi tapped her wand against her cheek, before turning. "How'd you get in here?"

            "Floo."

            Rolling her eyes Alendi sighed, "But you hate Floo."

            "I know." Severus Snape was not a happy wizard, by any means of the word. He had been woken very early this morning and told to report to the University at once, so that he could take over the Potions teaching position, since the former professor had somehow managed to get herself into a coma. "You're just lucky that I remembered where you lived."

            "What are you doing here? You never talk to your friends from school, let alone visit any of them."

            Severus frowned at Alendi. He didn't like the fact that she was right, but he wasn't going to feel bad about not keeping up with her. "It seems that Tamara Sabet, your Potions professor somehow managed to her herself blown up and I'm here to replace her until she gets out of St. Mungo's."

            "Really?" Alendi said sarcastically, hardly surprised by this revelation. She sighed, as she placed her wand down on her bed, and gathered up the pieces of her robes from the day before. "Well at least there is one thing… you haven't changed since we were all at Hogwarts," when he raised an eyebrow she continued, a mischievous smile gracing her features as she shrugged into her blood red robes, "Unlike how you saw Lily, you still don't see me as a woman."

            Severus looked at her in confusion, before blushing when he realized that she had been walking around naked the entire time he had been there. Turning around he stared blankly at a wizard picture of James, Lily, Alendi, and himself in Quidditch robes, his eyes starting to water as he held back tears. The picture had been taken during a time when they were all happy together at Hogwarts. In the picture Severus and Alendi looked upset, both scowling, and James and Lily were laughing. James was holding the Golden Snitch, arms around Alendi, and Lily hugging Severus. The picture had been taken at the last game between Slytherin and Gryffindor in their 6th year at Hogwarts. Long before they had ever imagined the circumstances that lead to he and Alendi becoming students at Hogwarts University and James and Lily marrying and producing Harry.

            Wrapping her arms around his chest, Alendi buried her face into his back. "I'm sorry Sev. I shouldn't have done that. I never meant to bring her up."

            Severus sighed and placed a hand over hers on his chest. "We would have brought them up at some point anyways."

            "I miss them so much sometimes Sev."

            "I know, so do I. Every one thinks that I hate them though."

            "But James was your best friend..."

            "...who married _my_ girlfriend."

            Alendi pulled away from him. "Add the house thing in and... I can see why they'd take it that way. But we know the truth though."

            "Do you know how much it hurt the first time I saw Potter at Hogwarts? Everyone thinks I hate him, but I don't. _I_ _don't_."

            Alendi's nose scrunched up as she thought about _the-boy-who-lived_. "I know the feeling. The first time I saw his picture... and when I visited Hogwarts last year..." She picked up a pillow and threw it against a wall knocking down a painting of Paris in spring. "Damn him. And damn her for hurting you." Alendi moved to her desk, where she gently picked up a delicate glass witch's hat cradling it in her hands as she allowed the tears to start flowing.

            Severus had turned and watched her as she started to cry softly. After a short internal debate, he awkwardly wrapped his arms around his old friend, comforting her as she had done many times before for him. "I can't hate Potter. He's too much like Lily." Feeling her start to calm, he kept talking softly. "The reason I treat him so badly is because it hurts to see her eyes in James' face and to know that he should have been mine."

            "Or mine."

            Severus smiled when he heard her soft words. "Or yours. I've tried to see him as yours instead of hers, because it makes the betrayal bearable. Problem is, he's too much like Lily for that to work for very long."

            "I try not to think about it at all."

            "That doesn't work either, does it?"

            "Unfortunately not." Alendi turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "What ever happened to us Sev? We used to be so strong. We could do anything."

            Severus sighed and tightened his hold on his friend from school. "Life happened."

            "It does do that, don't it?"

            "Unfortunately for us, it does." Severus pulled away from her, "And you need to answer your Floo."

            "What?" Alendi stared at him blankly for a moment, startled at the sudden change of topic.

            "Professor Dragnon."

            Alendi looked at the fire in the fireplace. Floating among the flames was the image of a middle-aged witch's head, her mouth pinched into a tiny line. "Professor McGaver. Good morning."

            "Good morning. I see you have been plying your trade on our errant Potions professor."

            "I've found him if that's what you meant ma'am. Severus is an old friend of mine from school. We were just catching up on what we've missed since we spoke last."

            "Very well then. Once you are both ready bring him to the Great Hall. Some of the upper-classmen have already arrived and would like to meet the new professor."

            "We'll be there shortly."

            Professor McGaver's face vanished without warning.

            "That old harpy. I wish she'd just..." 

            The sheer malice in Alendi's voice startled Severus, "Alendi!"

            Alendi looked at him guiltily, "I guess we need to get to the Great Hall then."

            Severus nodded, watching the fire as Alendi placed the figurine back on her desk before throwing off the wrinkled robes and put on a clean set. When she was ready she walked past him and whisked out the fire. Her robes were Gryffindor red and Ravenclaw blue, both it and the matching dress beneath shining in the low light. 

            "Come on." She opened the door to her room and waited for him to move past her, before she turned and whispered a spell to lock her door. Alendi led Severus towards the stairs, pointing out where each of the girls' rooms were. "This is the upstairs common room. My door faces north. The two doors facing west are two of the girls' rooms. The far door leads to the fourth year's room, and the door in between ours is the third year's room." Leading him down the stairs she continued her commentary, at the bottom of the stairs pointing across the common room. "The second year's and the first year's rooms are the two doors closest to the stairs and the middle one, and the one farthest from the stairs is the prefect's room. We don't speak of that though." She waved to the room around them.  "And this is the common room."

            The room they were in had plush chairs and sofa, a large fireplace flanked by windows, small tables with lamps and knickknacks scattered around the room, a large conference table with seating for fourteen, paintings of the former Heads of House on the walls, as well as the Britholden House crest over the fireplace. Everything was done in shades of purple and silver, the tables in a dark mahogany, the chairs in purple velvet. The paintings were currently empty, save one, where all of the women were gathered, having morning tea and gossiping.

            "Colorful."

            Alendi smiled at the sarcasm evident in the word. "Very Slytherin, were it not for the color scheme and the fact that all of the Heads of House have been and currently are female."

            "Indeed."

            Alendi laughed softly. "Come on, let's get out of here and get some breakfast." Pushing Severus out the front doors, she turned and whispered the new password to the rabbit head doorknocker. Pointing to a willow tree about 30 meters away from the door she said, "We can apparate to the Great Hall from there."

            "How far away are we from the Great Hall?"

            Alendi pointed to a group of buildings behind the house. "About a half-kilo away."

            "So why don't we just walk there?"

            "Because this is easier and takes less time." She held out her hand to him. "Take my hand and I'll lead you there. Because as I'm sure you don't remember, only professors are allowed to apparate around campus and you aren't an official professor here yet, and won't be until Dean Palmerdore speaks with you."

            Scowling Severus grabbed the arm of her robe and glared at her.

            "Alright I'm sorry about that crack, but you must admit you deserved that," when she received no answer, she shrugged and apparated them to the Great Hall.

            The first person to notice their arrival was a certain blond haired professor, who neither of them particularly liked.

            "Good morning Professor Dragnon and hello again Professor Snape. I never thought I'd see your unpleasant face ever again, especially after the unlucky occurrences at Hogwarts."

            "Lockhart. I never thought I'd have to stomach your existence ever again. What on earth are you doing here? Why aren't you still at St. Mungo's?"

            "Oh they fixed the whole obliviation thing right up. So now I'm right as rain, and I am the Professor of Educational Studies here this term. I get to be the Head of Piagera House too. Such a glorious and prestigious position for someone such as myself, it will even farther my career and bring my teaching methods to a greater audience and I'll get even more fan girls." Lockhart sighed happily and drifted off into his own little fantasy world as Severus and Alendi walked away from him.

            "He is entirely too self-centered for his own good."

            "For the students good more likely. He got into more messes as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, than anyone before or since his short little stint there."

            "That bad, huh?"

            "He let a group of pixies out in a second year class and had to get a student to put them back for him."

            Alendi gaped at Severus, "You mean my girls weren't just making that up?"

            "No. Most of it's true I assure you."

            "What idiot decided to hire him here then, with that kind of record?"

            "This idiot Miss Dragnon."

            Alendi turned to see Assistant Dean Eleanor McGaver standing next to her with a scowl on her face. "Professor McGaver. I didn't see you there."

            "Obviously not." Professor McGaver was not what one would call pretty, her mouth held a pinched look and she eyes were in a perpetual glare. "Professor Snape, Dean Palmerdore would like to speak with you."

            Severus nodded, and pushed Alendi into movement. Leaning down he whispered in her ear, "What is with her?"

            "She's just always been like that. The kids call her 'McGaver the Cadaver' when she isn't around."

            "I can see why."

            Alendi led him to the head table. Stopping before a middle-aged wizard reminiscent of a young Dumbledore, she cleared her throat. "Professor Palmerdore, Professor Snape is here to talk to you."

            The Dean looked up from his morning copy of the Daily Prophet, his blue eyes smiling at them. He looked to be a very happy man, with messy light brown hair and a large smile. "Ah, good morning Severus. Albus told me he'd be sending you over this morning. We're very happy that you decided to come teach here at your _alma mater_. We love it when our students return to teach here. As a matter of fact _nearly_ every professor here was a student within these walls at one time or another. It's good for the students to know that their professors when through the same things they do as a student. We won't be giving you a house to look over, they've already been assigned, but you can still help out our dear Alendi here with her group. Rambunctious ones those Britholden girls, but I suppose that is why they are the sister house of Slytherin after all. After breakfast we'll see about accommodations for you and getting you worked into the apparating wards as a professor here. Shouldn't take too long though, so why don't you both enjoy your breakfasts, and get to know a few of the girls who are already here. I'll make sure that you get a copy of the schedules and syllabi before noon. And I'm sure Alendi wants to talk to the Sorting Hat first though, but that can wait until this afternoon after Albus sends it over with Minerva."

            "Alright I'll wait Seren, but I still need to talk to that blasted hat."

            "Breakfast first Alendi."

            "Fine." Alendi walked around the table and sat at the end, Severus following and sitting next to her.

            "He reminds me of Albus."

            "Scary isn't it." Alendi sighed. "It's too damned weird sometimes." Alendi picked up her spoon. "Oh well, at least he's letting me get a chance at the hat though. That's something at least."

            Severus gave no reply as he was starting to eat and had tuned her out, as was his unconscious habit during meals. 

            Looking to her left Alendi noticed with a scowl that Severus had already begun and was ignoring her. "Fine, tune me out, see if I care. Not like you've talked to me in the last _ten_ years. No you're too busy being a Potions Master for something so _trivial_ as keeping up with _your friends_ from school. See if I let you stay with me."

            Looking up at Alendi, Severus arched an eyebrow. "Live with you?"

            "Well you'll need someplace to stay right, so I thought I'd let you stay with me, I mean the only alternative is one of the dungeons in the main castle complex, but no one uses those rooms, except for Potions and storage."

            "Sounds perfect."

            "What? Why?"

            "No neighbors or students to bother me."

            Alendi glared at him. "You are so repressed, you know that right?"

            Severus glared at her.

            Alendi rolled her eyes after he went back to eating and once again tuning her out. "Dumbass."

*******


	4. Enter the Prefects

Greetings and welcome to Chapter Two, I will be your host for this chapter, you may call me Rozylynn. Now, some of you may have been under the impression that Miss Vesdemort was the coauthor of this tale but, sadly, she decided to duck out, mumbling something about a Quidditch match she had to train for. At any rate, I hope we are enjoying ourselves so far and continue to do so, though you might become rather dazzled with new "stuff" by the end of this section, just hang in there it will all be fine... trust me.

**_Rozylynn_**... since when did you become _Rozylynn_... *_shakes head in exasperation_* I swear you bloody chit that you are going to drive me into the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's faster than you can say _Avada Kedvara. _Holy shite… *_sighs_* Oh well... and now that _ROZ_ has driven me even further into bedlam, here's my author notes. 

**WE** are prepared to give fifty points to the house of your choice if you can correctly guess who in literature the prefect of Hufflepuff is based on. If you're not an English major or minor you might not get it. However five points to any who get the secondary background character for him. The big hint is tresses.

Disclaimerus: Me no own, you no sue. The only characters that are ours are the ones not from HP, but inspired by it.

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Hogwarts University

Primary writer this chapter: Rozylynn (AKA Miss Vesdemort ... sorry love I just had to do that)

Chapter Two – Enter the Prefects

            Snape looked up as a fiery feather fell onto his plate, scorching his biscuit. "What is that _thing_ doing in here?" After sparing a scowl for the feather on his plate that was now no more than ash, Snap tuned his attention to Alendi, who was snickering lightly.

            "Looks like our house prefect is on her way, that was Rhaja's feather." Another feather fell and Alendi quickly moved her plate out of its path. "Infernal bird makes a game of ruining meals for the professors."

            "Good morning Professor Dragnon, Professor Snape." Luna Jinxy chose that moment to enter the Hall, smiling cheerily as all present professors looked up from their plates, frowns prepared for the prefect of Britholden House. After seeing the petite redhead all but Snape returned to their meals. The pale potions professor snarled at the fourth year as she sat across from Alendi.

            "Why don't you lock up that damned bird of yours Jinxy?" A low, resonating chuckle interrupted his griping and turned his attention to the owl hatch, where a young woman was sitting on her broom, a phoenix on her shoulder.

            "Severus, may I present to you our most esteemed house prefect, Miss Vesdemort." Alendi tried to hide her amusement and failed. Grinning, she turned toward the owl hatch and addressed the snickering prefect. "Come now, you know there's no flying in the Hall."

            "Yes professor," came the quick reply as the broom lowered down to the ground and Vesdemort dismounted, taking a seat next to Luna and directly across from Snape. The phoenix sitting happily on her shoulder fixed Snape with a calm stare, seemingly sizing him up.

            "I should have known," Snape mumbled, looking away from the bird's gaze.

            An uncharacteristically cheerful expression made its way onto Vesdemort's face. "Snape! How wonderful it is to see you again, our potions professor was a dolt, it will be good to have someone competent in charge of the department." The cheerful expression was replaced by a sneer. "Tragic what happened to Professor Sabet."

            "I'm sure," Snape replied, sparing a rare smile for one of his favorite former students.

            "Vesdemort, did your business at the station go well this morning?" Dragnon asked, shifting her plate away from yet another feather.

            "Rhaja, stop that," the prefect ordered, her sea green eyes glaring at the bird before fixing them on her mentor. "All went according to plan, though I did have to clean up a tiny fire Rhaja made when some fool Hufflepuff tried to touch her." A plate appeared before her and she piled a bit of sausage and mash on.

            "Miss Vesdemort, has Jemma arrived yet?" Luna asked, making sure she avoided the prefect's piercing gaze.

            "She's preparing the house for the first years," the New Zealander replied, lifting her fork to the bird on her shoulder, who nipped at the quickly charring mash.

            "That reminds me," Alendi sighed, placing her fork on her now clean plate, "I must go speak with that hat before it tries to overcrowd my house...again." Turning to the two fourth years, Alendi handed Vesdemort an envelope. "Would you two be dears and show Professor Snape around the school?"

            "Absolutely," Luna replied brightly. Vesdemort nodded in agreement and finished her meal silently.

*******

            "Well, you've seen the house, so you might as well start moving your things in," Vesdemort told Snape as they walked back to the house.

            "I'm rooming in the dungeons," he informed them, wrapping his robe around himself as he folded his arms across his chest.

            "Do you want me to sick the second and third years on you professor? I'd be more than happy to let them unleash their sad, tragic faces on you until you come to your senses." Snape growled at the prefect- he would not be bullied.

            "She means well professor, the dungeons smell horrid and you wouldn't enjoy rooming in Slytherin house with Professor Merger, he..." Luna faltered, not wanting to insult the head of their brother house.

            "He never shuts up," Vesdemort finished, having no qualms about insulting Garret "The Parrot" Merger.

            "I see," Snape sighed, knowing he would undoubtedly find himself faced with teary-eyed females who would whine until he submitted to their obnoxious wills. "Well, what are you waiting for, get my bags!"

            "So glad you saw it Professor Dragnon's way, Snape." Luna chirped, hopping over to the locus of Snape's suddenly present baggage.

            "Luna, get the bags, Professor Snape and I need to go greet the first years." Vesdemort glanced over at Rhaja who took the silent signal and lofted off of her shoulder. "I'll meet you at the Hall after I help gather the idiots from the station, Professor."

            "You certainly think highly of them," Snape remarked, allowing a slight smile to grace his features now that Luna was gone. "Do tell me how that Hufflepuff managed to be sorted into Britholden."

            "The Sorting Hat was angry with Alendi and decided to exact its revenge. She's become more tolerable since I've been working with her."

            "So she fears for her life I presume." 

            "Naturally," the black haired Britholden grinned, mounting her broom. "I hear Potter and his brood are in this year's batch, thought it best to warn you, considering...you know."

            "I beg your pardon." Snape arched an eyebrow.

            "I caught wind of some conflict between yourself and Mr. Potter, I thought it best you know that he's in the register this year. Now, you'll have to forgive me, I'm running late and the Cadaver's got me black listed already, I'm pretty sure she's going to expel me soon if I giver her an opening."

            "Imagine that," Snape muttered in mock surprise. "I suggest you go and my thanks for the warning." Snape's thoughts turned inward as Vesdemort flew away. "Potter," he murmured then sighed. This was supposed to be a peaceful year.

*******

            Professor McGaver frowned as Vesdemort dismounted her broom and stood in line with the other house prefects. "Late as usual," the spectral witch snarled before turning to the first years before her. "Follow the prefects to the Hall, where you will be sorted into your new houses."

            "But we've already got houses," a haughty voice complained. McGaver caught Draco Malfoy's eyes and held his gaze.

            "University houses are chosen upon professional interests, Mr. Malfoy. They are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Britholden, and Piagera. The Hall is that way, I suggest you hurry." In a cloud of smoke and flame McGaver vanished, leaving the first years gaping.

            "Come on then, let's not keep her waiting," the Gryffindor prefect bellowed, turning to lead the group.

            "There he goes again, thinking he rules the world," the Ravenclaw prefect, Elaine Cronk, whispered to Vesdemort, who ignored her and began walking to the end of the line to supervise.

            "Frances Kuiper is the king and she's the bloody queen," Feiffer Goodwin, prefect of Hufflepuff scoffed, running a hand through his blonde tresses.

            "The both of you are just jealous because their skill is seven times yours," Richard Jannen, Slytherin prefect added, casting a disapproving glare over all assembled personages.

            "She's going to fail Charms," Feiffer commented, his nose held high into the air. "She nearly failed it at Hogwarts. Word has it she really transferred there her seventh year because she failed it at her old school."

            "You're setting a lovely example for these students Feiffer Goodwin. There are enough problems between houses, we don't need any more so kindly keep your gossip to yourself." Cleo Zilbergeld, prefect of Piagera strode toward the front of the mass of students to help Frances.

            "Did they say Vesdemort?" Ron asked Hermione in a low whisper.

            "She's the prefect of Britholden house, used to be a Slytherin at Hogwarts. They say she has a pet phoenix that can read your thoughts."

            "Now Ms. Granger, you mustn't believe everything you hear."

            Hermione froze then turned at Ron and Harry's twin gasps. Standing before them was the prefect herself.

            "You're walking too slow, the others have begun to pass you," the smiling woman said, shooing the first years onward. _These are the children that defeated Voldemort?_ Vesdemort mused as she watched the three companions scamper. _How extremely interesting._

*******

            Severus sat at the High Table, cursing his fate. Garret "The Parrot" Merger had decided to befriend the brooding potions professor and was now halfway through his most uneventful life's story. "I do believe it was the sassafras allergy that did my cousin Eustice in, she was never of a strong constitution." Garret lowered his voice, "she was a Hufflepuff back in the day, you know."

            "Are you insinuating something about my house Professor Merger?" Sally West, head of Hufflepuff house squawked indignantly.

            "Of course not Sally dear, I was merely endeavoring to give Severus a complete picture of the situation." The smirk on Merger's face gave the lie away and West turned away with a snort.

            "Your attention please," Dean Palmerdore whispered, needing nothing more than his voice to control the professors present. "The first years will be assembled in the Hall shortly so let us begin our meeting. Is there any new business?"

            "Hufflepuff house proposes a dance in honor of the first years." The other professors sighed and endeavored not to strangle West.

            "A splendid idea Sally, we will hold the event tomorrow. I will remind you all that classes are to begin promptly at their designated times on Monday, despite the hour the dance ends. Is there any other new business?" 

            "I noted that the tables in the Potions classroom need replacing," Snape commented, endeavoring to steer the meeting in a productive direction.

            "I will see that they are replaced before classes begin." Palmerdore assured him with a smile "If there is nothing else that needs to be discussed we will adjourn to the Hall and greet our new students. Professor Dragnon is the Hat in place?"

            Alendi's smile was something less that pleasant. "Aye, it's been put in its place."

*******

            Severa Valfoy stood amongst the first years and looked upon them with contempt. Not a one of them seemed to have any sense at all, least of all her cousin Draco. "He's an embarrassment to the entire family," she groaned as she watched him make yet another failed attempt at mocking Harry Potter and his friends.

            "Family can be a bother, can't it?" a quiet yet strong feminine voice whispered into her left ear.

            "What would you know about it?" Severa grumbled, turning around. Her jaw dropped as she faced the prefect of Britholden house.

            "We all have family we are better off without," was all Vesdemort said before turning toward Severa's cousin. "If you are wise you'll reign him in before he causes you further disgrace. A bad apple can not only rot the whole barrel, it can change the course of history." With that the prefect left to stand with her fellows at the doors to the Hall.

            "Malfoy!" Severa called, gathering her robes and walking quickly towards her cousin.

            "Valfoy, what the devil are you doing here?" Draco snarled at his cousin.

            "The same thing that you're doing here you idiot," Severa replied, smacking Draco across the top of his head. "Now listen closely Malfoy because I'm only going to warn you once. You _will not_ embarrass our family while you are here. If you so much as step wrong, I'll be there to correct you, do you understand?"

            "Go talk to someone who cares Severa," Draco scoffed, walking away from his cousin and towards the front of the line where the prefects stood.

            "I would take heed of your cousin's words," Draco heard a voice whisper, though in the midst of the mass of first years he couldn't make out the voice's owner. "Should she be sorted properly she will have the means to put you in your place Draco Malfoy."

*******

            The sorting had been uneventful, as usual. The first years entered an empty hall and were sorted under the watchful eyes of the professors and prefects. When the sorting was over, students followed their prefects to their houses. Severa Valfoy, Sabina Weilsey, and Tanya Solenda watched in rapt fascination as their prefect, Miss Vesdemort, showed them the pathway to their house. "Now, keep in mind that our house is one of few magical houses on campus and is much larger than it would appear. This information is, of course, not to be shared with students from the other houses, is this clear?" The new Britholden girls nodded. "Ah, here we are." Vesdemort lead the students up a grassy knoll and toward what appeared to be a small Victorian house. "La vie boheme," Vesdemort whispered and the door to the house swung open. "I'll show you to Professor Dragnon's room and she'll take care of you from there, I have business to discuss with the other house members. Meet us in the upper Common Room when you are finished."

            "Upper common room?" Tanya asked, adjusting her spectacles.

            "You'll see soon enough," Vesdemort replied, grinning.

*******

            "Hufflepuff has nerve trying to upstage us," Jemma Mariposa, fourth year Britholden growled, gripping her teacup tightly.

            "We'll just have to step our prank up from second week to tomorrow," Luna said, her usually cheerful face contorted with rage.

            "What about the first years? Are we going to include them?" Emily Shivas asked the two fourth years.

            "That's for Vesdemort to decide," Jemma replied between sips of tea. "All I know is that the prank has to happen tomorrow night and completely top any prank we've ever done."

            "That's gonna be hard, last year's prank was legend, not even Slytherin house upstaged us last year." Mandy Brocklehurst's eyebrows twitched with excitement. The second year hadn't been involved in last year's prank and she was anxious to be included in this year's activities.

            All heads turned as footfalls were heard and the house prefect entered the common room. "Ladies, we have a situation on our hands, though I have consulted Professor Dragnon and together we've come up with a plan." Vesdemort withdrew her wand and traced a few words in the air, a trail of flame following her wand. "Silently memorize this spell, we don't want anything about it to leak out. Even Dragnon doesn't know the curse we're going to do."

            "What exactly are we doing Ma'am?" Indiga Montoya, a second year asked, her voice quiet.

            "We're going to cast a curse on all of the faculty that will compel them to sing until the counter-curse is performed. The idea to affect the faculty was Dragnon's though, for the sake of safety I, myself, devised the curse so that, should they put her under any truth spells she won't be able to give the game away." With a wave of her wand the words in the air vanished. "Jemma, Luna, it will be your duty to fill the first years in on our plan. Marisol, I want you, Belladonna, and Melinda to scout the location of the dance and make sure there are no nooks that a professor could lodge himself or herself in. I've taken the liberty of removing the invisibility cloaks from storage, you may take them out for this mission. Emily, Mandy, and Indiga will scout the campus and report on the activities of the other houses, I don't want any other prank plans to get in the way."

            "No one would have the audacity to try first prank, it's Britholden tradition!" Belladonna de Russou said, cracking her knuckles.

            "Be that as it may, I'm taking no chances this year," Vesdemort replied, grinning. "This one's going down in University history ladies, let's make it go as smoothly as possible. This meeting is adjourned, I'll see you all when I get back from the prefect's meeting." The girls of Britholden house dispersed to prepare what would be the greatest prank Hogwarts University would ever see.

*******


	5. Deuling Leads to War

Disclaimerus: see Prelude.

To our reviewers – Thank you for your reviews. I always love to hear that people like the stories that I write. And I'm glad that some of you thought that us making Snape human from the start was a good idea. With the way we have the beginning of the story line figured out it was for the best that we started it off with Severus showing that he's a real honest to goodness human being. We're going to have a bit of fun with him though, so I hope your ready for a Snape that's not your typical bah humbug kind of guy. Not to mention that we are always open to creative criticism as it can only help in improving our writing styles, and so that is why after a very well written review that I received the other day I have gone through and made several revisions to the previous two chapters and posted the house profession list at the end of the welcome letter. This is going to be long and very detailed story, so feel free to include ideas for future events or characters. I always welcome the chance to give cameo appearances to favored readers. If you want to be included in one of the future chapters, leave me your character name, a brief description, and preferred occupation, and we'll get you sorted and placed into one of the houses of Hogwarts University. And now without further ado… 

*******

Chapter Three – Dueling Leads to War

*******

            "Well, this year is certainly going to be fun," Feiffer Goodwin chuckled, again toying with his long blonde hair. The Hufflepuff prefect had been flaunting the dance his house was putting on for the past half hour as they waited for the Britholden prefect to arrive. "The dance is going to be the talk of the university for weeks, if not all year."

            "I'm sure it will be," Vesdemort agreed, flying into the room via the open western window.

            "Do you not know how to walk, Britholden?" the Hufflepuff sneered.

            "You just wish you could control your broom well enough to get off the ground, Goodwin," Richard Jannen shot back, quick to defend the prefect of his sister house and friend of his girlfriend, Jemma.

            "Do we have to get into these arguments at _every_ meeting?" Cleo groaned, placing her head in her hands.

            "Don't worry Cleo, Goodwin will be put in his place shortly, as usual." Frances remarked. The Gryffindor prefect would've indulged in smirking at the Hufflepuff prefect had Feiffer not drawn his wand, preparing to duel the next wizard or witch who crossed him.

            "You shouldn't make such threats in safe grounds such as these, Goodwin, but if you are so adamant about being beaten into the ground, I'll happily oblige after the meeting. My first years could use a good laugh." Vesdemort took out her wand and raised it in salute to Feiffer, accepting the duel she knew he craved.

            "Vesdemort, this is not the way we should be starting a new year!" Cleo admonished.

            "But a wizard's duel is always the best way to start a year, particularly one of Miss Vesdemort's. They always prove so educational." Richard grinned at Cleo then turned his calm chocolate eyes gloatingly toward Feiffer.

            "Though I am loathe to condone any rivalries between houses," Frances began, "I must admit that I find Miss Vesdemort's dueling style unique and I always learn something from watching her."

            "I really appreciate the vote of confidence there Frances," Feiffer grumbled. "I've won my share of duels, as any of you will remember."

            "Enough talk of duels, we have actual business to discuss," Vesdemort called, leaning back in her chair. _I wonder how Rhaja is doing? She should've gotten that message to Professor Dragnon by now._ As if in response to her thoughts the phoenix glided through the window and landed on the table before her. The other prefects, now long used to the bird's antics, moved their papers and continued to read the amendments to the school regulations that had been passed that summer. Vesdemort took the letter that Rhaja held in her beak and opened it.

_Miss Vesdemort,_

_            I am pleased to hear that all plans for this year's prank are in order. I look forward to witnessing what you and the other girls have come up with. I have explained several of the house rules to our three new girls, though I have left the inner workings for you to detail. I will be taking Professor Snape out to dinner later that we might discuss some important issues we will be facing during the school year. Please see that the girls are tended to in my absence._

_Yours,_

_Alendi Dragnon_

            Vesdemort handed the letter back to Rhaja and it quickly burst into flame. Having already read the amendments earlier that week, Vesdemort waited for the other prefects to finish, humming contentedly all the while.

            "What's got you so happy, good news from Dragnon?" Richard whispered. He knew that Britholden house wouldn't stand for the subtle insult Hufflepuff had cast them, he just didn't know how they would retaliate.

            "She was just giving me a synopsis of the day's agenda, making sure I knew what the first years needed to be briefed on, the usual." The Britholden prefect grinned and leaned forward to scratch Rhaja's chin. "Go on and check on the girls Rhaja, I'll be here for a while. Make sure you're back in time for the duel though." With that the fiery bird lofted off and flew out of the room.

            "You make out as if that bird can actually understand you," Frances observed.

            "That's because she can Mr. Kuiper. You'd be amazed what animals can understand." Vesdemort turned to face the eastern window that Rhaja had flown out of. "The magical creatures are especially keen on our human goings on. Never underestimate their intelligence because they speak in a tongue few understand."

*******

            "Rhaja, what's the matter?" Luna asked the phoenix as she flew in circles above the main meeting table in the lower common room. The bird gave a cry and shook two feathers off to rest on the tabletop at her master's seat. The two feathers sat still for a moment then the one farthest from Vesdemort's chair erupted in flame. "Not another one!" the redheaded Britholden grumbled, ringing the bell on the table to call all the housemates into the room.

            "What's wrong Luna?" Jemma asked as she entered, the first years following her.

            "Vesdemort's dueling again," Luna sighed. It was mind boggling how many duels the prefect got into or, more often than not, instigated.

            "It will be a good experience for the first years," Melinda Bulstrode remarked, striding into the room with bolts of fabric in hand. "I picked up the material for our house dresses." 

            "I don't think Sprik will be able to handle that many dresses in one night," Luna whimpered, sympathizing with the house elf.

            "Sprik has more power in her pinky than you have in your entire family, Jinxy. I think twelve dresses are well within her grasp," Marisol laughed. "Besides, we _do_ pay her rather richly for her services.

            "You'd have to pay an elf to listen to Professor Dragon yelp when she's woken up," Jemma chuckled.

            "So, who's the duel against?" Severa asked, eager to see what her prefect could do.

            "Dunno, but I hope it's that Gryffindor prefect," Luna scowled. Luna could still recall the embarrassment she'd suffered her first year at the University when she'd found out that the object of her crush had been a blasted Gryffindor. True, Frances had come from Slytherin's brother house at Beauxbatons school in France, but his professional interests fell under the house of Gryffindor at Hogwarts University, a continual source of annoyance to the Gryffindor prefect, though he bared the burden with admirable grace.

            "It's probably that Hufflepuff idiot," Melinda commented, dropping the fabric into a corner. "That house has been asking for it since they insulted Professor Dragnon last term."

            "Of course, if we want to get back, all we have to do is tell everyone about Feiffer and Cleo's little 'relationship,' but that would be far too easy," Indiga yawned, taking her seat. "Why don't we do a See You, See Me and ask Her who she's battling?"

            "She should be back soon, no use wasting..."Luna was interrupted when Rhaja squawked and flew to the door, waiting for the others to follow.

            "That solves that problem," Jemma chuckled, grabbing her cloak and following the bird. "Come girls, it's time for the duel."

            "That bird gives me the creeps," Sabina whispered to Severa.

            "I think it's supposed to," the blonde replied.

            "Oh, of course!" Sabina chirped brightly before running after the others.

*******

            Vesdemort stood staring at Feiffer Goodwin, a sinister smile playing across her features. She'd been waiting three years for this duel and she was going to take much delight in beating Goodwin into the ground...repeatedly. A crowd had begun to gather around the two students who, in moments, would be dueling to settle a long-standing grudge between their houses.

            "Crush him into the bloody ground!" came a shout from behind Vesdemort. _Looks like Jemma and the girls are here_. Vesdemort's eyes lit up with joy- the whole house had come to give their support.

            "Put the whores in their place!" a Hufflepuff cheered, raising her fist into the air.

            "Quiet!" Richard shouted, raising his hands to silence the mob. "Everyone spread out three more paces, this isn't some grade-school duel here!" Turning, Richard spared a wink for Jemma who was smiling at him knowingly.

            The two duelists raised their wands in salute before pacing backward. At the tenth pace both spun around and took a fighting stance though neither moved to attack first. The crowd was silent as they watched the two glare at one another.

            "_Expelliarmus!" _Feiffer cried.

            "_Finite Incantum_!" Vesdemort cast back, effectively blocking the attack. "You shouldn't smile before you attack, it gives you away."

            "_Flipendo_!" Feiffer grinned as a badly aimed ball of energy grazed Vesdemort's left arm, rendering it useless and her wand dropped from her fingers. Snarling, Vesdemort picked up her wand with her right hand. "Perhaps you shouldn't distract so easily Britholden, it makes you careless."

            Vesdemort gripped her wand tightly. "_Ocularis Obscurus_!"

            Feiffer started when he blinked and faced, not Vesdemort but Cleo Zilbergeld with a very sinister grin. "This a new trick of yours Miss Vesdemort?" A very unHufflepuff-like sneer crossed Feiffer Goodwin's angelic face. "Or should I say Miss Lucinda Riddle?" 

            Vesdemort shook in rage. "Where did you hear that name?" she whispered.

            "Any knowledge can be uncovered if you're persistent enough," Goodwin replied. "Lucinda Riddle, a pureblood unlike her most infamous cousin..."

            "_Rigor Mortis_!" Vesdemort screamed, launching a blue-black mass at Feiffer who, upon impact, froze and fell backward.

            "She didn't just use one of the Unforgivable, did she?" a student whispered.

            "I've never heard of it before," another replied.

            "Riddle?" Harry Potter whispered to Ron.

            "Wasn't that You Know Who's real name?" Hermione murmured, walking up to her two friends.

            "It's an evil spell, should be considered Dark Arts but barely escapes it because it can be cured with Mandrake." a whisper behind them echoed.

            "Freezes everything up, you're heart doesn't even beat! You're alive, but no one can tell, people've been buried alive cuz of that curse," a shrill squeak continued.

            "Miss Vesdemort!" came Professor McGaver's pinched shriek. "What have you done this time?" 

            "She used _Rigor Mortis_, professor," Cleo explained, staring at the frozen form of Feiffer Goodwin in half horror, half amazement.

            "Never repeat those words on this campus," McGaver warned, casting an icy glare to the still seething Britholden prefect. "We do not teach the Shadow charms here and we will not tolerate their use on this campus, is that understood? Were the curse not so easily curable, Miss Vesdemort, you would be expelled immediately."

            "Yes professor. However, I suggest you keep closer watch on your records as it seems some students have been meddling in them." Clear green eyes locked with startled hazel and held them. "And as to the curse, let it be known that the same awaits any who would dare speak _that_ name."

            "He couldn't possibly..." McGaver began.

            "He did," Vesdemort grimaced.

            "I will speak to Mr. Goodwin upon his awakening and I will overlook your involvement in this incident." With that, McGaver turned to Feiffer's frozen form. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Feiffer Goodwin's body floated cheerily behind a fuming Eleanor McGaver.

            "Bloody awful thing for that rat Hufflepuff to say," Jemma said, coming to stand behind her prefect. 

            "They'll pay for that one," Indiga promised, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the mass of Hufflepuffs who stood across the duel space from them.

            "You bloody Britholden whores deserved it," Elaine Cronk replied, leading Ravenclaw house to stand next to Hufflepuff.

            "Watch your tongue Cronk or I'll knock you into next Quidditch season," Richard snarled, leading Slytherin to stand with Britholden.

            "If Britholden hadn't provoked this duel then none of this would be transpiring," Cleo sniffled between tears. The sight of her beloved being floated behind the Cadaver had been too much for her to bear. Quietly she lead Piagera house to stand with Hufflepuff. "Miss Granger!" she snapped when Hermione began to lag behind, still standing next to her Gryffindor friends. Hermione moved a little closer to her housemates but continued to wait for Harry and Ron's decisions. Harry and Ron were currently watching their house prefect, Frances Kuiper, who was silently arguing with himself.

            "Well Gryffindor, what's it going to be?" Elaine asked, stepping forward. "Are you going to side with the whores and the snakes, or are you going to do the sensible thing and side with decency?"

            "I..." Frances looked back at his fellow Gryffindors who also seemed to be split on the issue. "I...I need to discuss this with my house for a moment please. Gryffindors, follow me." Once they were clear of the other houses Frances took out his wand. "_Silencio_!" A shimmering bubble surrounded the housemates, keeping all sound from traveling outside of its barriers. "I will not pull Gryffindor into an interhouse conflict without a consensus, though I should make it known that Hufflepuff did, in fact, start this particular conflict."

            "It's a simple matter of numbers, really," first year Vale Keys piped in, pointing a freshly polished nail towards the assembled groups. "Right now it's two against three, so it's only logical that we side with Slytherin and Britholden and even matters up. After all, Hufflepuff_ did_ start it." 

            "Listen to yourself! You're saying we should side with _Slytherin_ and _Britholden_. There aren't two more evil houses." Mat Adler argued.

            "Having been something like a former Slytherin myself, I resent that Mr. Adler and will ask that you not assert such prejudices in my presence. I'll remind you that University houses are based on professional interests, not personal character." Kuiper's piercing glare cut down the unruly second year and reduced him to an immobile, murmuring statue.

            "Side with Hufflepuff!"

            "Britholden!"

            "Quiet!" Frances bellowed, raising his hands in the air.

            "In all honesty Frances," Ron said, stepping up to stand before his prefect, "if we side with Hufflepuff we're going to lose. Britholden's packed with former Hogwarts Slytherins and there's but a few stray houses in Slytherin itself, and if anyone knows how to plot revenge, it's a Slytherin. If we go against those two we're setting ourselves up to be destroyed." 

            A grim expression settled itself onto Harry's features and he stared out at Hufflepuff's supporters. 

            "Poor Hermione," Ron whispered, sensing his friend's thoughts. "She can't very well go against the whole of Piagera house."

            "Maybe we can talk to Britholden and ask them to go easy on her," Harry sighed.

            "Mr. Weasley's right, though I'll not say nothing more to sway you. A show of hands, who's for Hufflepuff?" Three trembling hands quickly raised and lowered when they perceived they were alone in their decision. Frances quickly noted the owners of the hands and made a note to watch them, they could likely become traitors or spies. "Who's for Britholden?" A lively cheer was raised, though it sounded more like a cheer for the salvation of Gryffindor than hope for Britholden's victory. With a flick of his wand Frances released the sound trap and lead his house to stand next to Britholden.

            "I never thought I'd see the day that Gryffindor and Slytherin were on the same team," Cleo mused.

            "Even Slytherin can fight for a righteous cause now and again," Frances laughed, casting a look over to Richard, who raised a streamlined eyebrow in inquiry. _What the Hell is Kuiper doing, he should be with Hufflepuff._ A small grin made it's way across the Slytherin's thin lips. _You can take the Slytherin out of the house, but you can't take the house out of the Slytherin...or whatever house he was in at that blasted school of his._ In a show of camaraderie Richard walked over and grasped Frances hand, though he noted that Frances' attentions were elsewhere. Following his gaze Richard smirked. _Good luck Kuiper, you're fighting a losing battle._

            "Don't you have a ball to prepare for?" Draco Malfoy asked the Hufflepuff side. Severa could be heard a few meters away, groaning at her cousin's lack of social finesse.

            "Come girls, we have things to discuss back at the house," Vesdemort called, turning in a flourish of robes and heading toward Britholden house. 

            "This is going to be the best year ever," Jemma told Richard as she gave him a quick hug goodbye.

            "If I get expelled because of you ladies I'm going to be very agitated," he laughed, waving farewell then turning to lead his own house back.

            "I don't have a good feeling about this ball," Ron whispered to Harry as they waited for Frances to snap out of his daydream and take them back to the house that they still couldn't locate on their own.

            "Hold on a minute," Harry said, walking up to Frances and following his line of sight towards the prefect of Britholden as she was walking away from the grassy knoll.

            "Bloody Hell," Ron gasped, pulling Harry away from the dazed prefect. "You don't suppose he's…" He let the sentence trail off so that their housemates wouldn't catch onto their conversation.

            "I think he is, and that could mean loads of trouble for Gryffindor if anyone finds out, especially Miss Vesdemort."

            "She'll kill him," Ron squeaked, his face lighting with fright. "Do you...do you think she'd use one of the Unforgivable?"

            "She's a Riddle, I wouldn't put anything past her. She doesn't exactly have the best family history." Harry's eyes lit with suspicion and malice.

            "Do you think she'll come after you?"

            "I don't know Ron, I don't know."

*******


	6. Dance Dance Revolution

Roz: So...what chapter are we on? Before it was the second part of chapter two and now it's chapter four...I think. At any rate, here it is. *_waves flag_* I'll hand it over to my partner in crime now, seeing as she's handling all of this stuff.

Zarra Rous: *_sarcastically_* Oh. That just makes me feel _so_ loved.

*******

Hogwarts University

Chapter Four: Dance Dance Revolution 

******* 

            "Is all in place for the evening's festivities?" Vesdemort asked Jemma and Luna.

            "All obstacles have been removed and with the range we'll get from all twelve of us, I can't imagine we'll have any trouble." Jemma answered.

            "I did some scouting and it seems that Hufflepuff has broken into teams to follow us around during the ball." Luna added, frowning.

            "I've compensated for that already." Vesdemort reached for a piece of rolled parchment with her right hand, her left arm still tingling as it recovered from Feiffer's attack. "These are the groups assigned to each of you girls, I trust that you can dispose of them properly during the course of the night." She handed the paper to Jemma, who tore it into pieces and passed them out to each girl, each piece detailing who was to follow her and giving a physical description for easy identification. "How are all other preparations?"

            "Sprik has finished the gowns and they're lovely." Marisol sighed, shifting impatiently in her chair.

            "Purple and silver," Melinda added. "We'll be in house colors when we make University history."

            "Well girls, since we're going to have a long night I suggest we retire to our rooms and prepare. This house meeting is adjourned." Vesdemort rose and left the common room, followed closely by Jemma and Luna.

*******

            "Remind me why Palmerdore agreed to this ridiculous event," Snape growled at Alendi who was briefing him on Sabet's previous lesson plans.

            "Because it will be fun Severus!" Alendi replied, a mischievous smile showing she was, as usual, up to something.

            "You do know your prefect has started an interhouse war?"

            "Yes, isn't it lovely? Though Severus dear, it was Hufflepuff who started the war, we simply plan to finish it." Alendi's eyes twinkled with pride in her girls, though she was having difficulty mentioning Hufflepuff around the foul taste in her mouth whenever the house came to mind.

            "They're going to tear the campus apart." Snape set the papers he was looking over aside and cast Alendi a stern glare.

            "Come now, my girls have more tact than that and Slytherin house is equally well versed in subterfuge." Batting her eyelashes innocently Alendi followed Snape's example and put Professor Sabet's notes away.

            "And Gryffindor?" It was Snape's turn to fight the rising bile in the back of his throat.

            Alendi faltered. "Well, they're...persistent little buggers." Placing her head in her hands she sighed, "Honestly, I don't have a clue what Gryffindor's doing on our side."

            "I believe it has something to do with the fact that Hufflepuff instigated that blasted duel."

            "Don't remind me," Dragnon groaned, "I've been fielding questions left and right about where my prefect learned a Shadow curse. How in Merlin's name am I supposed to know? The child was passed from school to school like a blasted quaffle. A semester here, a few days there- I'm amazed she's been able to stay at the University for so long."

            "That family always did like to have their spawn near the nest."

            "And thanks to the duel we may lose her, only this time she'll be expelled. If anyone mentions her name in her hearing she'll use a Shadow curse or worse on them, make no mistake of that. The Dark Arts run in her blood like fire barely kept in check."

            "Is her father still agitated about his forced resignation from the Ministry?"

            "Agitated is a light term, Severus. I hear Miss Vesdemort wants to be a Minister, herself once she gets out of University."

            "She'll make a fine Minister if she ever learns to control her temper," Severus commented. "And if she can get over her ineptitude with the basic charms. I've never seen a student botch up _Wingardium Leviosa_ so many times in all the years I've been teaching."

            "I heard her first Charms professor in New Zealand say that she managed to summon a wraith on accident," Alendi commented, shivering slightly. "I swear, I'll never understand that child."

*******

            "Richard should be here to pick me up shortly," Jemma told Vesdemort and Luna. The fourth years had gathered to await their escorts in Miss Vesdemort's quarters. "Who's taking you, Luna?"

            "Jared Kust," Luna chuckled.

            "He's a Hufflepuff!" Jemma shrieked.

            "And he thinks I'll ditz out and give him information." A wide grin spread over Luna's features. "I'll give him information alright." 

            "You are, as ever, an asset to our cause Luna," Vesdemort laughed, her face alight with glee.

            "And who has the pleasure of escorting our beloved prefect?" Jemma asked.

            "No one, I'll be going this one alone. I need to concentrate on the plan."

            "Glad I'm not a prefect, " Luna pouted, "it's no fun at all."

            "You ladies best get going, your escorts will be here soon." Vesdemort snapped and the door to her room opened for the other two then shut quietly after they had exited.

*******

            "Who're you taking to the ball Harry?" Ron asked as he busied himself getting ready. "No one's really caught my eye," Potter sighed, "You taking Hermione?"

            "Of course!" Ron beamed, adjusting his tie.

            Harry shook his head. "It's going to be bloody chaos, what with Piagera and Gryffindor on different sides of the argument."

            "Nah, we'll manage," Ron assured him. "Let's go see what Frances is up to. No offense or anything, but he seems a bit dazed for a prefect if you ask me."

            Said prefect was currently in the fourth year room bemoaning his existence. "A bloody rotten day," he groaned, lying back on his bed.

            "Keep this up and you'll out-moan Moaning Myrtle," Ron commented, poking his head into the room.

            "Can I help you with something Ron?" the prefect asked, sitting up.

            "We just came by to see what you were up to," Ron answered, pulling Harry inside the room. "You know, to see if we should be preparing anything for classes tomorrow."

            "Well, I suggest you brush up on your Potions or Snape'll dock the house points for it, other than that I can't imagine what you'd need to prepare for. Your blocks are with Slytherin and Britholden so I don't foresee any problems in that respect." Frances paused and shook his head. "That is most likely the first time a Gryffindor has ever uttered those words," he groaned, gripping his head in his hands.

            "It's not so bad as all that," Ron said, trying to reassure the distressed man.

            "When Tort finds out he's going to strip me of my title for sure," Kuiper groaned.

            "But we're on the just side," Harry said, aware of the irony of his words. _I'm defending a Riddle_, Harry thought to himself, _I must be going mad. _"Hufflepuff took things too far by attacking Miss Vesdemort's personal life, which is against duel regulations." 

            "And bloody bad manners," Ron chimed in.

            Harry ignored Ron and continued. "The only reason Piagera sided with Hufflepuff was because of Cleo's relationship with Feiffer and the only reason Ravenclaw joined was because of the stigma against Slytherin and Britholden, which is a result of the University adopting the house names of Hogwarts school. We _are_ on the right side and you shouldn't let anyone tell you differently." 

            "Who're you taking to the ball?" Ron asked suddenly, trying to lighten the mood.

            "No one," Frances mumbled, too low for either Ron or Harry to hear.

            "Who?" the two first years asked in unison.

            "No one," Frances growled. He really didn't want to go into this, he'd already heard it from his fellow fourth years.

            "I thought Meredith Kramer asked you," Harry commented.

            "And Alice Rogers and a dozen other girls," Ron finished.

            "I didn't want to go with them," the prefect replied softly, his eyes taking on a far off expression. "Now, it's time for you first years to meet with Tort, he should be back from his office by now."

            "At least ask her to dance with you once instead of being a bloody coward," Ron muttered as Harry pulled him out of the room.

            "Easy for you to say, Weasley," Frances grunted, falling back onto his bed and waiting for the other fourth years to come back. "A bloody rotten day."

*******

            Feiffer Goodwin had still not recovered from Vesdemort's curse and so Percivel Snoutert, his best friend and fellow fourth year Hufflepuff, gave the welcoming speech which was less than moving. After the speech each house began to spread out, some moving to dance while other made their way towards the refreshments.

            "Who's the DJ tonight Professor Dragnon?" Jemma asked after sending Richard to get drinks.

            "Professor Lockhart," Alendi said before letting out a long, suffering sigh.

            "We'll easily set things into action then, don't forget about your part Professor, we're counting on you!" Jemma ran off before Alendi could respond.

            "One track mind, that girl," Alendi mused to herself before looking about to find Severus. She did, after all, have a duty to perform.

*******

            "You're being oddly quiet tonight." Vesdemort heard a voice behind her say.

            "I haven't been given a reason to make a scene, unless you plan to give me one Frances Kuiper." _Will he bugger off, it's almost time to put the plan into action._

            "Would you like to dance?" he asked, his body trembling as he endeavored not to run at the scowl Vesdemort gave him.

            "Why?" The prefect's eyes darted to the side and she noticed a group of three Hufflepuffs coming to stand next to her. _That must be the group that's supposed to track me tonight._

            Frances shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. "It passes the time and will show Hufflepuff that our houses are, indeed united against them."

            "A noble motive," Vesdemort grinned. _If I dance with him then I'll be able to move towards the rendezvous point without arousing any suspicion._ "Very well then, we dance to confuse and intimidate the enemy."

*******

            "What's going on over there?" Percivel asked Cleo, spinning her around so she could see.

            "That Britholden girl is dancing with the Gryffindor idiot. Disgraces both of them. We can call group Alpha back in, we can watch Vesdemort from here." Cleo allowed Percivel to spin her around again so he could give the signal for the team following Vesdemort to disperse.

*******

            "What the devil is Vesdemort doing, dancing with a Gryffindor," Severus snarled.

            "She must be starting her term project for Harlotry studies early. She always was an overachiever in her better classes." Alendi smiled when she caught her pupil's gaze over the crowd. "She seems awfully agitated about something though."

*******

_            If he steps on my feet one more time, I'm going to kill him._ Miss Vesdemort caught Professor Dragnon's eye and smiled when she saw Snape standing next to her- their key diversion was in place. As she danced with Frances she sought out her housemates and nodded for each of them to commence the operation.

*******

            "There's the signal," Severa told Sabina, who had chosen to follow the blonde around. "It's our job to get the DJ to play a slow song."

            "Yeah," Sabina sighed. She'd asked Draco to dance and he'd told her to piss off at which point she'd run to Severa and hung resolutely by her side while devising a plan to lure Draco to her. Quickly and quietly the two blondes made their way to the DJ booth where Lockhart stood, posing.

            "Professor Lockhart, would you mind playing the song you composed last year after you recovered from your illness? I've always found it so inspirational." Severa tried not to spit the words out too quickly, though had difficulty not frowning as she spoke. With some effort she managed to plaster a doting smile on her face, though she would most definitely speak to Jemma about giving her such a foul task to perform.

            "Of course my dear," Lockhart sighed, striking a tragic pose. "Shortly after my tragic bout with amnesia I composed this soft ballad to express the dark days and nights I experienced, not knowing the glory that is me." Lockhart cast a quick smile to Sabine who pretended to swoon, just as she and Severa had practiced moments before. "Celebrity is as celebrity does, girls, always remember that. It will get you through the darkest of times." He winked and they sighed in unison. "Now go and dance girls, have fun, enjoy this wonderful night!" A soft melody began to play and Severa and Sabine made their way to the rendezvous point.

            "They owe me for that," Severa growled, gagging as Lockhart's crooning echoed throughout the Hall.

*****

            "Come Severus, we're going to dance," Alendi instructed, tugging on Snape's arm.

            "I will not embarrass myself in such a manner," Snape snarled, snatching his arm back.

            "But Severus, no one else will dance with me and you still owe me a dance from..."

            "Alright," Snape sighed, "Just don't mention that day again." Snape grudgingly took Alendi's hand and they moved to the side of the dance floor.

_            This will never do_. Dragnon thought, slowly maneuvering both of them toward the center of the dance floor. _Much better._

****

_            If I don't get away from him soon I'm going to kick him_ Vesdemort growled mentally, perking up slightly when Lockhart's song began. _Showtime!_ Wriggling away from Frances Vesdemort smiled brightly at the prefect. "I should be checking on my girls and checking in with Professor Dragnon, it's been lovely, goodbye." She all but ran to meet her fellow fourth years.

            "Dragnon's done her part, she and Snape've got all the attention," Luna chuckled as Vesdemort approached.

            "Girls! Come have a dance with us!" Dragnon called. Luna, Jemma, and Vesdemort smiled at one another then walked up to the dancing pair and curled around them, hands joined. The rest of the house soon followed, forming an outer circle that swayed slightly in a large group hug. The school watched, fascinated at Britholden's display of house solidarity. Suddenly Lockhart's voice rose in pitch in the song as his "dramatic moment" came and the Britholden girls turned in unison, wands out.

            "Vox Imperius Musicus Infitatum," the girls called, brilliant red light sparking from the tips of their wands and vanishing just as the song ended. Everyone present applauded the beautiful fireworks display.

            "What did they just do?" Snape asked Dragnon, panic evident in his eyes.

            "To tell the truth, I'm not sure Severus, but whatever they did it's going to be amazing," Alendi replied, vaguely worried when nothing vile had happened following the curse.

****

            "What was that 'Mione?" Ron asked, watching the slowly dispersing Britholden girls warily.

            "I haven't got a clue, I've never heard of it but, if what I hear about Britholden is true, it's some sort of curse."

            "But they didn't directly attack anyone," Harry countered, his brow furrowing in puzzlement.

            "A curse can be directed by will alone," a voice replied. The three friends turned to see Frances frowning toward the door to the Hall.

            "Then how could the first years have cursed anyone, we didn't learn that yet," Ron sighed. "They just did some light show to make us nervous."

            "Hold on," Harry said, a though striking him. "Frances, is it possible that a stronger will could direct a curse _for_ someone?"

            "It is possible. Very tricky, but possible." The prefect continued to frown at the door.

            "Those Britholden's are a tricky lot," Hermione thought aloud, "the three fourth years might've been able to direct the curse for the first years.

            "But that doesn't explain why nothing happened but some nice fireworks," Ron argued. "If they put a curse on something or someone then we would've seen it."

            "Unless he's not here," Hermione ventured.

            "What are you gettin' at 'Mione?" Ron stepped back from his friend.

            "What if the curse was meant for Feiffer Goodwin? What if Vesdemort wanted to finish what she started." 

            Frances chose that moment to travel in the direction his gaze had held.

            "I don't think that was a wise accusation to make Hermione," Harry sighed, watching Frances storm off. "Not that it isn't possible," he amended at the glance Hermione sent him, "I just don't think some people want to hear it spelled out, if you follow me."

            "Granger!" came Cleo Zilbergeld's command.

            "I guess that means the dance is over, see you guys tomorrow." Hermione gave Harry a quick hug and Ron a kiss before trotting off to her prefect's side to be berated for '_consorting with the enemy_.'

            "Poor 'Mione, Cleo's been a mess since Goodwin got zapped by that curse and has been taking her frustration out on all the first years," Ron commented, shrugging off his suit jacket.

            "Speaking of messes," Harry interjected, his eyes now on the Hall door, "we best go see what our prefect's gotten himself into."

            "Harry?"

            "Yes Ron?"

            "How in Merlin's name did such an emotionally inept wizard become a prefect?"

            Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously. "He's a great wizard Ron, I'm sure of that, but if what I hear of him is true, he's not used to not getting his way and this entire...ordeal has him a bit frazzled." There was no need to say what the '_ordeal'_ was as the entire school knew about it though none were brave enough to name it in public.

            "But really Harry, he's in his fourth year, you'd think that he'd have done something by now."

            "Maybe the opportunity hadn't presented itself until now. The first two years at University are always hectic and..."

            "But he had almost all his bloody classes with her," Ron interrupted.

            "He might've been paying attention in class Ron, I've heard it helps." A cheeky smile played across Harry's mouth and Ron laughed and smacked him on the shoulder.

            "Okay, okay, let's go see if Frances wants to play some Wizard's Chess." Ron took off before Harry could respond.

****

            "That was bloody beautiful," Luna chirped from her seat at the common room meeting table.

            "It was, wasn't it?" Indiga sighed, playing with the rose an admirer had given her.

            "Indiga, can I see that flower please?" Jemma asked, holding out her hand. Pulling out her wand Jemma tapped the flower and muttered, "Revertus." The flower quickly transfigured into a radio recorder and Jemma scowled before handing the item back. "Really Indiga, you should've known better."

            "Anyone else pick anything up?" Vesdemort asked, giving a nod to Jemma as congratulations for her thoughtfulness.

            "I got a flower, too" Melinda replied, "but I threw it away."

            "Nicely done. Indiga, could you please dispose of that then rejoin us?" Jemma asked, gesturing to the recorder.

            Indiga rose from her seat, set the device on the floor, then lowered her heeled boot onto it several times, smashing the offensive device. "They're gonna pay for that one," she promised as she brutalized the now mangled box.

            "They already have been paid back plenty," Luna chirped, clapping her hands in joy.

            "Miss Vesdemort, why didn't the curse work?" Severa asked, frowning. She was certainly not convinced of the prefect's supposed magical prowess.

            "The curse begins with the rising of the sun tomorrow, Miss Valfoy. It wouldn't do to expose the game immediately, the enemy must first sweat a bit." A feral grin accented Vesdemort's words.

            "Miss Vesdemort! A word before I head out please!" Dragnon called from the top of the stairs.

            "Jemma, carryon on in my absence." Vesdemort quietly walked up the stairs to Alendi's quarters. "Yes Professor?" she called to the closed door that opened for her almost immediately.

            "Vesdemort, I wanted to speak with you about your independent project." Alendi sat at her vanity, brushing through her hair.

            "Yes, well, I thought that I'd..."

            "Use Mr. Kuiper as your project, I know dear! I can't tell you how proud I was to see you starting to..."

            "Professor, you don't understand, I wasn't..."

            "Oh don't be bashful dear, it's a noble project, one of the most ambitious I've seen in years." Alendi's smile killed all protests the prefect had- she simply couldn't disappoint her mentor.

            "I'll update you on it as I progress," Vesdemort sighed. _Sweet Merlin, what on Earth am I going to do now?_

****

            "Um...Frances," Ron tapped the prefect on the shoulder, starting him out of his thoughts. Harry and Ron had tracked the prefect to the Quidditch pitch where he sat, his back against a hoop pole.

            "Shouldn't you boys be in bed?" Frances asked, pushing chocolate brown locks out of his face. "Big day tomorrow."

            "One might say the same for you," Harry replied, moving to sit next to Frances.

            "This is a beautiful field," Ron commented, eyeing the rings with glee. "What positions are open on the team this year?"

            "Keeper, one Chaser, and one Beater." Frances replied before looking to Harry. "Afraid 'ol Rika is still got one more season in her before she's drafted Harry, but you're sure to succeed her."

            "Rika the Rocket?" Ron nearly giggled. "She's the fastest Seeker on the college books!"

            "As long as she's not being smacked down by a bludger," Frances grumbled, bitterness creeping into his voice.

            "Let me guess, Slytherin," Harry laughed.

            "Britholden," Frances corrected, dropping his head to rest in his palms. "Every blasted game they manage to get Rika with a bludger, if not two. She spent a week in the infirmary growing her bones back last time we played Britholden."

            "That's horrid," Ron gasped.

            "It's a part of the game, Ron," Harry countered. "Do I need to remind you f all the bludgers I've had sent my way?"

            "But _every_ game, Harry, that's ridiculous. You'd think there'd be a rule for that sort of cruelty."

            "Harry's right Ron," Frances sighed, "We just have to deal with it.

            Harry smiled at the prefect while rubbing his hands over his arms to combat the chill night air. "Why are you out here in the cold Frances, it's nearly suicidal."

            "Just thinking," the prefect replied, his gaze moving out to take in the opposite hoops. "I was thinking about a Quidditch game I saw my first year at University. It was between Slytherin and Britholden and it was brutal." 

            "I'll bet," Ron whistled.

            "The Britholden Seeker had been taken out by a bludger so they sent in their replacement Seeker, a first year who'd never played the position in game before."

            "Five sickles says I know who it was," Ron whispered to Harry who grinned and shook his head- he wasn't prepared to make a bet he knew he'd lose.

            "The game lasted two days because each team kept losing players and, in Britholden's case, that can be dangerous given that they've only got 12 girls in the house."

            "Bloody hell, you need at least 30 to play a decent match, especially at collegiate level," Ron gasped.

            "Britholden won, the new girl caught the Snitch during the second night by executing the Wronski Feint. It was brilliant and none of us expected her to be able to perform the maneuver." A sigh escaped quickly chapping lips. "After the match I went up to introduce myself and compliment her on her dive but she was already busy chatting with her teammates about the injured Seeker's health. Next year, when the actual Seeker graduated she stepped up to the position. She's no Rika, but she's good enough to win her share of games."

            "Hold on," Harry murmured, "If Britholden only has 12 girls in the house, do they all play Quidditch?"

            "It's a house requirement, or so I'm told," Frances replied, shrugging.

            "So do you mean to tell us that you've had a crush on her for four years and you've done nothing about it?" Ron's jaw was set and his brow was arched in disbelief. _He's an idiot, an absolute idiot._

            "It's not that I haven't tried Ron, but you have to understand that she's not the most approachable person on campus."

            "That's an understatement," Harry muttered under his breath.

            "First year she was stuck to Professor Dragnon's side almost all day, second year she was always busy training for Quidditch, third year she holed up in the library studying for classes, and this year she's got her duties as prefect and will probably cloister herself up in her house."

            "Then drag her out of her house or talk to her at prefect meetings," Ron offered.

            "Yes Ron, I'll just march up to Britholden house and demand that she come out," Frances replied sarcastically. "And prefect meetings aren't social gatherings where one can strike up a casual conversation. This blasted...crush is bad enough, I don't need the other prefects finding out and mocking me."

            "I think they already know Frances, you've been quite obvious about it," Harry said, slapping a mosquito.

            "The drool gives it away every time," Ron added.

            "I do _not_ drool," the prefect protested.

            "If you don't mind me asking, what do you see in her? She seems a bit evil to me, no offense," Harry slapped another mosquito as he waited for Frances to answer.

            "She's not the prettiest girl on campus, or the best Quidditch player, or even a powerful witch really," Frances admitted, his eyes looking far off. "But I'm puzzled by the way her mind works. She always manages to come up with the most amazing things, like that curse; I'm sure she wrote it, we haven't studied it here." Frances paused, deliberating over his next words. "If you ever see her in a true duel you'll see what I'm getting at. She has this aggressive way of manipulating a situation just so-- probably something she refined during her time in Britholden, but it was there even during the month she spent at Beauxbatons."

_            He likes her because she's evil_ Harry commented silently. _She's cold and manipulative and he finds it attractive. Best keep an eye on him._ Aloud he said, "It's getting on, we should get to bed."

            "What about Wizard's Chess?" Ron complained, though under his complaint was a quiet signal that he wanted to talk to Harry about what Frances had just spoken of.

            "Tomorrow," Harry promised, standing. "We need to be awake for Potions."

            "Potions," Ron groaned. "Just when we thought we were rid of Snape we're stuck with him for another year." Ron scrambled to his feet, offering a hand to Frances.

            "He can't be all that bad," Frances said, smiling.

            "Oh yes he can," Ron grumbled. "And we endured seven years of him."

            "It's only temporary Ron, they'll find a new Potions master soon...I hope." Harry offered a weak smile and trudged toward Gryffindor house, his spirits darkened.


	7. I Want to Sing

Disclaimer – see Prelude.

Author's Notes – On the premise that we the authors are university students, I'd just like to say, don't expect the chapters to be placed on the site for several weeks. Due to our hectic schedules and mountains of assigned take home work, not to mention the sheer amount of detail that we are placing into this story, we will be updating once every three weeks or so. And to address certain concerns which have been expressed to us the authors, we would like to say that this story is about Harry's university experience and the changes that occur to all students during their often tedious and overwhelming first year. 

Knowing this from experience, first year is a confusing and most often time overpowering, we the authors have made and are making Harry and the other character's first year into an affair of similar proportions. We are also compounding this experience by adding existentialistic imagery portraying the heartfelt mania and depressions of a student learning that their whole life has been a fabrication of astronomical proportions and that his once thought to be eternally lost family is not quite as decimated as he had been told on many previous occasions.

_In other words this is going to be a really long fic because we're still getting the characters to where we want them to be mentally before springing the whole Snape as a father thing on them._

And now on with the story…

Hogwarts University

Chapter 5 – I Want to Sing

* * * *

                The bright light of dawn woke Alendi for the third day in a row, to her great dismay. 'Bluger! Can't the sun just not come up for once?' Growling she threw a pillow at the bay window, silently cursing her house elf for being an insufferable morning person. Settling back into her pillows Alendi groaned, her skull felt like it was three sizes too small for her brain. After having danced with Severus, Alendi had started drinking, not the most brilliant move on her part, but at the time it had seemed appropriate. '_I guess I went a little overboard._' "Sprik. I need a hangover cure."

                Alendi's loud singsong woke Severus, who cracked his eyes open and glared at the door of his new living quarters. Snape's new room had once been the house's bathing room. He had watched the day before as Alendi and the Transfiguration professor Sarah Rose, arranged for the room to open to the girls as the normal Turkish Bath with one password, and to his room with another. His room had a large bed identical to Alendi's in all but color, his had black hangings and hers had blue. The walls were covered nearly completely by floor to ceiling bookcases and the only breaks coming from a single desk and worktable, and the door to his own, utilitarian lavatory.

                After hearing Alendi call out to her house elf again Severus closed his eyes and buried his head under his pillow, determined to not get out of bed until he absolutely had to.

                Alendi on the other hand, was now very happy and very awake, moments after Sprik had given her the hangover potion. Laughing, she sprung out of her bed, surprising even herself at her unusually chipper attitude. Moving over to the door across from the bay window she giggled as she gave the password for the bath. "_Paene advenimus_."

                The door opened to the into the houses' Turkish Bath. The bath itself was the size of a small swimming pool, being able to fit all of the girls from the house comfortably. The tiles in the pool were violet and silver, the house crest in a mosaic on the bottom of the pool, appearing distorted because of the movement of the water. The crest was silver lined with a violet background. A female greyhound in gold surrounded by navy blue and silver ribbons holding up a violet witch's hat with a silver moon decorating it, was emblazoned upon it. Surrounding the bathing pool were chaise lounges with plush violet and silver velvet pillows. 

                As she slid into the bath she sighed. '_It's going to be a good day today. My girls have been plotting and from what I can tell, they were successful in their scheme,_' she thought gleefully as she sat in the pool staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the Quidditch pitch. '_I can't wait to see Severus' reaction._'

                An hour later she left the bath, stretching as she walked over to her armoire, where she pulled out an emerald green robe with silver sleeve, a black short skirt and spaghetti strap tank top. Laying they out on her bed, she picked up her 8½ in mahogany and unicorn hair wand from her nightstand and gave it a swish, shutting the curtains, drying her hair, and cleaning the room. She dressed quickly and pulled on her boots. As she was lacing them up, she called to Severus in order to wake him.

                " Severus! It's time for breakfast." 

                Alendi's lilting soprano re-awoke Severus, who had, after her shouting earlier, burrowed into his blankets, burying himself completely under the black bed sheets. Pulling his blankets back far enough to uncover his head he looked blearily at his bedside table, seeking out the clock sitting there. Pulling it from its place, he brought it several centimeters from his nose to stare at it. It was nearly a full minute later that he realized that it was just after 7 AM, an hour before his first class of the day. Groaning he placed the clock back in its place, not wanting to get up for the day. Hearing the door to Alendi's room slam shut, he growled and sat up, running sleep-numbed fingers through his tumbled hair. After stretching, cat like, Severus slipped out of his bed and padded slowly to his own bathroom. "_Nunquam_," allowed him entry to the utilitarian room. Having gone through with his morning routine, he dressed in his usual robes. Sweeping out of the room, his robes billowing around him, he moved through Alendi's spacious room, empty of is occupant, to the door leading to the second floor common room.

                 Emerging from their chambers, he saw two of the Britholden girls sitting at one of the three small tables eating breakfast. He recognized one as being a former student of his from Hogwarts, and the other as someone he had never taught before.

                "Miss Jinxy shouldn't you and your housemate be eating in the Great Hall?"

                "Professor Dragnon said that we could have our breakfast here since our classes aren't for several more hours."

                "And you, Miss?"

                "Belladonna deRussou, Malgram School, Oregon, USA, Coyote House, Third Year. And I have the same excuse."

                Severus glared at them before sweeping down the stairs, ignoring the giggles of the girls behind him.

                Once they heard the front door slam shut behind him, Belladonna and Luna broke down laughing.

                "Merlin's beard, that was funny!"

                "He didn't even notice!"

                The door to the 3rd Years room opened and a black haired girl stuck her head out and spoke, her Brazilian accent thickened by sleep, "What is going on?"

                Belladonna answered with a wicked looking grin, "Singing my dear Marisol. Singing."

* * * * 

                Severus was not pleased with how the girls had answered him. It was obvious that they had been ready to give into laughter. 'Well,' he thought, 'I'll just have to see to it that they learn the proper way to treat a professor in my class. No more silly female laughter at my expense.'

* * * * 

                The 'Hogwarts Dream Team' watched as Snape stalked past them with a deadly expression on his darkened features. 

                "What do you think got up his arse this morning?" Ron asked, thinking out loud.

                 "Probably just the fact that the Britholden girls managed to successfully con him into living in their house for the year." Hermione answered.

                "How'd you find that out Mione? I thought that Piagera was against them in the house war.""

                "We are Ron, but that doesn't mean that we aren't up on all of the gossip. After all, all of the students in Piagera are learning how to be professors and professors need to know the gossip so that they can properly react to their students."

                This remark drew the attention of Harry, who had been staring after Snape with a bewildered expression. He was trying to figure out a question, which had been plaguing him for nearly a year. He had noticed that ever since his fifteenth birthday, he had been looking and acting more like Professor Snape. He hadn't realized until his glasses had been filched at the beginning of seventh year that any of the changes were even occurring. He had spent many nights the year before just staring into the fire in the Gryffindor common room thinking over it. He had a few ideas about what was happening, but none of them made any sense yet. "Mione, I never realized you were into gossip. I guess this just goes to prove that you really are a girl and not just an, 'insufferable know-it-all'," he teased, gently mimicking Snape as he quoted him, a small smile on his face.

                Ron paled slightly, "Don't do that Harry. It's creepy."

                Harry shook his head slightly, mild confusion etched across his features.  "Do what Ron?"

                Ron shivered in a melodramatic fashion as he answered, "Quote Snape like that with a straight face. It makes you look even more like him than you usually do."

                Hermione glared at her boyfriend, "Ron that is not a nice thing to be calling Harry. He's nothing like Professor Snape."

                Ron stared at her in disbelief, while Harry rolled his eyes at the both of them.

                "Don't tell me you never noticed how much Harry looks like Snape nowadays."

                "I'll admit that he does share a few physical characteristics with Professor Snape, but I think it is because as Harry has grown older, he grew out of looking like his father and developed features inherited from his mother."

                "That's not it Mione. Yeah he looks more like his mum, but ever since he was fifteen he's been looking more like Professor Snape and less like his dad James Potter."

                "Ron…"

                Harry cut off Hermione before the argument could escalate any further. "Guys! Unless you want to go hungry until lunch, I'd suggest that we all go into the Great Hall and get ourselves some breakfast."

* * * *

                Severa Valfoy discovered to her great annoyance that all the professors were singing, when she walked into the Great Hall for breakfast that morning. Rolling her eyes, she moved towards the Slytherin-Britholden table, but stopped when her cousin called to her from outside the Hall. Turning she saw him walking in, his now shoulder length hair slicked back into a ponytail. She anticipated his reaction to the professors singing, as it meant that she would be able to reprimand him again.

                "What the fuck are they doing?"

                Smiling sweetly, she glided with light steps to Draco's side and without warning slapped him upside the head. When all the former Hogwarts students started to applaud, she nodded slightly in acknowledgment. 

                "What the bloody devil was that for?" Draco whined as he glared at his cousin.

                "Don't use that sort of language. It's demeaning. It's really for the lower classes, that sort of thing is. It's not befitting our social stature."

                Pouting, Draco continued to glare at Severa. "I'll say whatever I please. You're not my mother." 

                Severa cut him off from his little _I'm better than you_ speech, by slapping him again. Ignoring the cheering from the students and the stares from the now silent professors, Severa walked the rest of the way to the Slytherin-Britholden table. "Idiot," she muttered as she sat and started to pile food on her breakfast plate.

                A few minutes later a soft female voice interrupted her musings. "Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

                Severa didn't even look up as she shrugged and waved at the seat next to her.

                "You're the only other girl from Britholden who's here except for Miss Vesdemort, our prefect."

                "Is that so?"

                "Yes. I'm guessing that none of the others in our house are morning people."

                "We don't do mornings dear." Severa finally looked up at the girl next to her, she was a blond haired, blue-eyed chit, dressed to the nines in blood-red silk robes. "Oh, hello Sabina."

                Sabina Weilsey, former nice girl of Slytherin house. Pure blooded, but without the history of Dark Magic in her family that many former Slytherin's had. How she had been sorted into Slytherin in the first place was really anyone's guess, because everyone had thought that she would have ended up in Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff.

                "Bloody brilliant the way you handled Draco. Always thought that he deserved a good slap up side the head. I couldn't do it myself of course, not with Crabbe and Goyle always following him around like puppies. I've done it a few times to my older brothers though."

                Severa smiled unenthusiastically and said softly, "Really, how nice."

                "So what's your first class today? Is it Potions like mine?"

                "Yes, I'm going to talk to Professor Snape and see about getting it changed though. It is at an _ungodly_ hour." Severa's smile became a little devious. "Did you hear that Professor Snape is going to be making everyone in first year potions review everything we did for our NEWTs?"

                "Really?" 

                Severa shrugged, "It's just a rumor. Whom do we have Potions with by the way?"

                Sabina pulled out a piece of parchment from a pocket in her robes. Looked at it she answered, "Slytherin and Gryffindor are having Potions with us."

                "That means that the Potter brat is going to in our classes then," Severa scowled, "and that idiot Weasley that always follows him around everywhere. Well, everyone needs a lackey I suppose."

                "Well Ronald is my cousin so he can't be all that bad. Not to mention that your cousin Draco will be in our classes as well." Sabina said with a shy smile.

                Severa raised her eyebrow at her, "Draco?"

                "What? I think he's cute."

                "Yes, you and every other Slytherin girl."

                "True. But at least now that they're not here, I've got a go at him."

                "Whatever do you see in my cousin?"

                "Tall, handsome in a pale moonlight sort of way, rich, and of course pure-blooded."

                "But then he has to go and open his mouth."

                "Well, he won't need his mouth when we're married, now will he."

                Severa shook her head lightly. Now she knew why Sabina had been placed into Slytherin, she was ambitious, candid, and not afraid to use her 'talents'. "Well class starts in a few minutes, I suppose we should get going then."

* * * *

                It was at precisely eight AM that Professor Snape slammed open the door to the Potions classroom. He swept into the room in a flurry of black robes, looking for all intents and purposes, like an over grown bat. His deep baritone filled the room as he started to give his beginning of year speech for first years. "There will be no foolish wand waving in this class…" His voice came to an abrupt halt when he unintentionally hit a high note. A brief smattering of giggles earned a dark glare promising death at several of the students before he stalked _back_ out of the door. 

                As soon as the door had slammed shut nearly the entire class erupted in laughter, earning all of the first years a dark look from one Gryffindor and the cloaked figure sitting in the back of the room. Harry Potter's eyes had followed the professor out of the room, a troubled frown gracing his elvish features before turning into a Snape-ish glare directed towards his classmates. _They shouldn't be laughing at him. It's not his fault. He didn't ask for that curse to be placed on him. It's unjust how they are treating him._

                "Silence!"

                The shouted command shocked the class into instant submission and brought Harry out of his musings.

                Harry glanced at Ron, before both turned in their seats to look at the mysterious creature who had spoken. In a perfect imitation of the absent professor, Harry cocked an eyebrow as he scowled, "Miss Vesdemort, I should have figured you'd be here this morning."

                Miss Vesdemort smiled serenely as she threw her cloak off. "Excellent deduction Mister Potter. You are a credit to your name."

                "Do not mock me Miss Riddle."

                At Harry's blatant use of her name, most of the class gasped in fear, or sat forward in anticipation of a fight. Miss Vesdemort's face darkened, her fists white knuckled at her sides.

                "How dare you call me that," her answer was immediate and angry.

                "It's your name, is it not? I'm just using it."

                His answer gave her pause, as did the manner in which he had answered. Harry had unintentionally quoted Professor Snape from the first day that Lucinda had met him, complete with scowl.

                "I don't have time for this Potter, I have a class to teach." Scowling at the rest of the class she decided to take her anger out on them, instead of Harry. A new respect for the Slytherin-like Gryffindor was starting to grow in her, as was a curiosity about how he had managed to imitate her favored professor so perfectly. "I will be taking over this class and you will listen. 'There will be _NO_ foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.'*"

* * * * 

                Professor Ivy Flintbottom sat heavily into her chair in the faculty lounge, confusion and anger warring for control of her features. Professors Mavis O'Toole, Garret Merger, and Ellen Newt, as well as the Dean, Seren A.D. Palmerdore, were also sitting at the table all knowing the issue at hand, the singing curse.

                Oz Avis the flying instructor entered last and sat next to Ivy at the large conference table where the weekly staff meeting was held and looked at Garret angrily. It wasn't long before the insults were flying. "It's because of you that we've all lost our speaking voices."

                Garret spoke up next, or rather sang, against Oz's accusation, "But it isn't my fault, I was placed under the spell as well, you persuaded me to go to the ball and dance with you, and without that ball, there'd have been no spell to get us all to this place in the first place!"

                "Wait a minute, vocal spells on a voice so old that you have to tell a lie to sell your theory on it! Was it a worthless curse? Is there a counter to it? Oh and tell us who persuaded you to go to that ball."

                Ivy turned to look at Garret questioning, "See it's your fault."

                "No!"

                Oz sang again, "So it's your fault…"

                "No!"

                Ivy raised an eyebrow, "Yes it is."

                "It's not."

                Oz smiled sadistically, "It's true."

                Garret thought for a moment before turning his own accusatory glare at Oz. "Wait a minute… but I only went to that ball to get my books back from you!"

                Ivy looked at Oz, "So it's your fault."

                "No it isn't. I'd have kept to myself but my room was cursed, she made me take your books to get the curse reversed." Oz pointed to Ellen.

                Ellen looked disgruntled at having been thrust into the brewing argument. "It's your father's fault that the curse got placed and the place got cursed in the first place."

                Ivy looked thoughtful for a moment before asking a question in her voice, "Oh, then it's his fault."

                "So…"

                Mavis nodded in agreement, "It was his fault."

                Garret protested loudly, "No!"

                Oz scowled at Garret, "Yes it is, it's his."

                Mavis nodded again, "I guess."

                Garret's protest continued, "Wait a minute, though… I placed a counter-curse… Right? That's clear. But without any curse then what's clear is how did our voices get like this in the first place? Second place…"

                "Yes."

                Ivy spoke up again with a question, "How?"

                 "Hmm…" Professor Oz Avis hummed thoughtfully as he leaned back in his chair. 

                Garret stood, "Well, who had the other spell?"

                "The other spell?"

                "The other spell?" Mavis parroting Oz seconds later.

                Garret looked at Oz, "You cast the other counter-spell."

                "No I didn't," he thought for a second and came to the realization, "Yes, I did."

                Ivy turned an accusatory glare on the bedraggled flying teacher, "So, it's your…"

                Oz cut her off, "No it isn't, cause I cast it with my wife!"

                "So it's her…"

                "No it isn't!"

                Mavis trying to deescalate the argument, interjected with the question of, "Then whose is it?"

                Oz continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Wait a minute! She cast that spell to obtain his books," he pointed at Garret, "so the one who knows what happened with the spell is you!"

                "You mean that old spell that your wife –?" Mavis paused as a thought struck her, "Oh, dear… But I never knew, and so I threw… Well don't look here."

                Ivy now turned her glare towards Mavis, "So, it's your fault!"

                "But…"

                "See it's her fault." Garret piped in.

                "But…"

                "And it isn't mine at all."

                Oz shook his head in confusion and asked Mavis, "But what?"

                Mavis ignored him in favor of yelling at Garret. "Well if you hadn't gone back in again…"

                "We were needy."

                "You were greedy! Did you need that book?"

                "But I got it for a friend…!" He waved in the direction of where Ellen was sitting. 

                "So it's her fault then." Ivy said quickly.

                Mavis continuing her rant as if Ivy hadn't just spoken, "Yes and what about the broken counter-spell, in the third place?"

                Oz was confused for a moment before a thought struck him, "The counter-spell… Yes!"

                Garret pointed an accusing finger at Ivy, "She went and dared me to."

                Ivy looked confused, "I dared you to?"

                "You dared me to! She said I was scared…"

                "Me?"

                "And she dared me!"

                "No I didn't!"

                Oz, Mavis, and Garret all glared at her, "So it's your fault."

                A loud noise stopped the argument, as Dean Palmerdore slammed his mug of coco down onto the table. It was a shock to all present that he had, because he was normally not inclined towards ostentatious displays. "Professors please calm yourselves, I know who the culprits are.

                As one the professors asked the question on all their minds, "Who?"

                But Palmerdore merely shook his head as he answered. 

                "No."


	8. Finding Inner Truths

Don't worry I have no notes for this chapter, except for the titles of the songs used, which are listed at the end of the chapter.

* * * *

Hogwarts University

Chapter 6 – Finding Inner Truths

* * * *

"Aikiko Utada?"

"Here."

"Ronald Weasley?"

"Here."

"Sabina Weilsey?"

"Present."

"Good you're all here." The young American professor smiled at the sleepy students in her class, her green eyes laughing. "For those who don't know me, I am Professor Sarah Rose. I'm originally from California and I went to Malgram School, Turtle house. Which would have made me a Ravenclaw if I had gone to Hogwarts, which I didn't. I apologize for this class' early hour, I know what it is like to prefer to get up at noon, however I didn't make the schedule, the college did, so we all get to suffer through it together. Now you will notice that there is a number 2 pencil placed on top of each of your desks. I want you to turn your pencils into first a rose, then a goblet, then an owl, then into a desk, and finally into a quill pen. This exercise will give me an indication of where you all are at as far as Transfigurations goes. Once I know all of your levels, we'll go from there. This class will be easy for some, and hard for others. If at anytime you find yourself not understanding a project either ask me during class, so that I can explain it to everyone, or during my office hours, when we can work together one on one. Hours are posted on my door, and whenever my door's open you are free to visit. I like to talk to my students, unlike some Professors… namely Snape. But enough of the speeches… have at it."

* * * *

"Severus what are you doing? Are you trying to commit suicide?" were the first words out of Alendi Dragnon's mouth when she walked into the Advanced Potions Lab after lunch on Tuesday. Severus, himself was sitting on a stool stirring a rather noxious looking potion.

Severus scowled at his old schoolmate with a look that would have sent her running had she not become immune to the effects many years prior. "This potion is to get rid of the singing spell."

There was a short knock on the door before Transfiguration professor, Sarah Rose entered and, having heard Severus' comment and seen him taste his noxious brew, made her own observation. "It doesn't look like it's working honey."

Alendi gave a devious smirk at her colleague behind Severus' back. "But if you do want to…" she let her sentence trail off knowing that the blank would be filled in by her listeners.

Severus glared at his long-time friend and answered her softly, "I don't have any friends. I'm in a dungeon. No one likes a man dressed all in black, who works for…"

Finally catching on to Alendi's idea Sarah interrupted Severus with a loud, "Hey!"

Smirking in triumph, Alendi started to sing, knowing that the only way to get Severus out of his depressed mood was to torment him with silliness. "Let's find a rock – I mean a big ass rock, or maybe something like a cinderblock is better. I'll hoist it up and drop it on your face, my buddy." Alendi leaned on Severus. "And just before the lights go out, you'll see my smile and you'll know you've got a friend, with a rock… who cares. I mean a big ass rock."

Leaning on Severus' other shoulder Sarah smiled and started her own verse. "Or rope. I got some quality rope. Made for a man who's devoid of hope like you are, my buddy… Severus –."

"That's Snape to you."

"Snape, right! And I won't leave you swinging there, twitching like a fish while you claw the air. I'll grab your feet and pal o' mine I'll pull real hard and _snap_ your spinal cord."

Alendi moved away from Severus motioning for Sarah to do the same. "The world is cold when you're alone and they ignore you. But don't kill yourself…"

Leaning against each other the two women placed an arm around each other's shoulders and gave cheesy grins as they completed the verse together, "We'll do it for you."

Severus just sighed in aggravation and said sarcastically, "Oh, that makes me feel so much better."

* * * *

"Cast your eyes on the ocean, cast your soul to the sea. When the dark night seems endless, please remember me. Though we share this humble path, alone, how fragile is the heart? Oh give these clay feet wings to fly, to touch the face of the stars. Breathe life into this feeble heart. Lift this mortal veil of fear. Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears. We'll rise above these earthly cares. Cast you eyes on the ocean, cast your soul to the sea. When the dark night seems endless, please remember me. Please remember me."

Dark eyes watched as the woman standing in the shallows of the lake sang her words gently, unforced by the curse placed upon her two nights before. Her voice lifted and fell noticeably with the emotions being placed into the words by her. A soft breeze rose to caress her cheek, as her last words fell from her full lips, lifting the ends of long wavy hair unbound from its customary braid. Turning she looked at her observer with a soft and yet sad smile. Beckoning to her side, she invited him to join her by the lakeside. "Come join me here and let me tell you a tragic tale of lovers joy and their betrayal. And tell me why you yourself have come to be here with me."

Moonlight caressed the young mans raven black hair as he stepped out from under the wide limbs of the university's ancient oak tree. He walked with elegance, his steps filled with a grace that an individual can only be gifted with at their birth. As he reached her side, he spoke for the first time, his words tinged with a sadness that bespoke of many years of demands being placed on too young shoulders. "I was laying in my bed and I couldn't help but think of how many I knew at Hogwarts who never got the chance to go to university. After a while I just couldn't stand to hear the sounds my roommates made as they slept. So I came out here. I didn't mean to interrupt your singing. It was quite beautiful."

"It's only beautiful because you understand what loss is. May I tell you the story behind my own sorrow?"

An elegant eyebrow rose in a high-reaching arch as his eyes caught the light showing that they were painted the purest shades of green. "If you want to."

"I knew your parents, long ago, when we were children ourselves. I loved James, more than any other, before, or since. This is how it seems to me: life is only therapy. Real expensive and no guarantees." When it looked as if he were about to interrupt, she lifted long artist's fingers to his pale lips as she silenced whatever remark he might have made. "Here is how love was to me. I could look and not see, going through the emotions, not knowing what they mean, and it scared me so much, that I just wouldn't budge. I might have stayed there forever if not for his touch. Oh, but he moved me, out of myself and into the fire. He moved me, burning with love and with hope and desire. How he moved me." Moving away from her companion she gazed across the lake once more. "He went whistling in the dark, making light of it, making light of it. And I followed with my heart laughing all the way." Pausing for a moment she collected herself, wiping a tear from her cheek. "So I went walking through the garden of temptation unaware. And I tasted what I wanted, not looking for the subtle warnings that might be hidden there, and I barreled though undaunted. Oh, I was seduced by a craving that left me defenseless."

When Alendi's voice trailed off, Harry moved away kneeling at the edge of the water letting his fingers skim the surface of the lake. As he watched the way the water rippled around his fingers, he murmured a line from a muggle song he had heard Hermione play once, "Hand in hand we're finding our way and today is just tomorrows yesterday."

"What?"

"So, you and my father were together during school." At her nod he continued, "and you were friends with my mother and the Marauders." Again she nodded. "Tell me."

"Lily was my best friend from first year on," Alendi's song was now tuneless as she struggled with the emotions brought to the forefront by Harry. "Severus I knew from my youth, my dearest friend and confidante, and James was my hearts first love. When Lily and James left us, we were both devastated. Severus became distrustful and bitterly angry, especially after you were born. You were supposed to be his."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He'd have to spend a lot of time considering where he was going now and what he was going to do. This conversation brought more questions, but at the same time it answered so many, "I'm starting to understand."

"Understand?"

He nodded at Alendi's question. As he decided what he was going to tell her he stared off across the lake before speaking. "I've been changing, ever since my fifteenth birthday. I used to look just like my father, now I'm not sure whom I look like. Hermione refuses to believe that I might not be who I thought I was. Ron of course is oblivious, but I think he's seen it as well. For the past three years I've changed, my hair is longer and more manageable, and my temper has suffered. Ron says I remind him of Snape now, more than I ever did before I started changing, not that I resembled him before. Hermione says that she thinks that I've been showing the traits inherited from my mother. Remus says the same thing, but I just can't seem to believe them. Somehow Ron's claim of my resemblance to Snape makes more sense. But I just don't understand how it's possible given who he is and who my parents are. It doesn't make any sense."

Alendi sighed sorrowfully and placed a hand lightly on Harry's cheek, wiping away his tears. After a moment of her touch, his eyes closed and he moved forwards into the smaller woman's arms, taking the comfort his mother's friend offered freely. Her arms wrapping around the child she herself was denied by fate. "Maybe we were wrong," she murmured softly to the crying boy in her arms, "and maybe all this pain is a result of our loved ones just trying to protect us. And maybe you're not really who we've always thought you were."

Harry pulled back far enough to look into her face, before he nodded and moved back into the comforting circle of her arms. His response was muffled by her shoulder, "What do we do? Then… then how do we find the truth?"

Silence was his answer for several moments as Alendi tried to think of some idea. When she had one, she spoke softly sharing her Slytherin plot. "In potions tomorrow, I'll arrange for an accident or perhaps diversion is a better word. I'm sure that Severus will give you some extra credit project or another. I'll arrange for Lucinda's aid for you. In this little plot of ours we'll need a potion or two, and there'll be extra credit for you from me as well. I'll give you the ingredients list tomorrow and you can add it to whatever Severus gives you."

"You'd do that for… for me?" Harry said as he pulled out of her arms.

Placing her hand on his cheek again, she nodded. "You're my best friend's son. And I love you for it, if for nothing else. You're a child long denied the truth. And I'm going to find it for you. You're the son I never had, and I love you like you were my own."

Harry's eyes lit up at her words and a relieved smile spread across his face. "Thank you."

* * * *

Silence greeted Harry and Ron as they entered the Potions classroom the next morning. Professor Snape had his nose stuck in what appeared to be a very old potions textbook, his visage dark and unapproachable. This image was aided, in that he had the entire lesson for the day written on the blackboard at the front of the class, the words 'No Questions!' written across the top above the ingredient list.

Setting up quickly, Ron and Harry started work on the youth potion assigned to them. Sullenly Ron placed ingredients into the cauldron as he muttered under his breath about the unfairness of having Snape for a Potions professor for the eighth year in a row. His complaints only halted when he was jabbed in the side by Harry who was pointing to the door Professor Dragnon was entering.

Alendi entered Severus' classroom to see that all of the students had their heads bent to their own works. Seeing Harry and Ron working diligently she smiled, this would work perfectly with her plot. Mister Weasley was going to have quite the surprise when she acted. Slowly walking to the front of the classroom, her smile widened as she heard the whispers of the students cease as her footsteps were heard.

Severus' head shot up from his study of an ancient potions text to see Alendi walking across the room towards him, her black masters robes concealing her figure, unlike her usual robes which flaunted it. Glancing at the students he noticed that a third of them were watching the Potions Mistress and not their own work.

Catching a pair of bright green eyes with his own, he arched an eyebrow at the lack of hostility within them. Potter's eyes were contemplative with an edge of mischief to them. It was strange for Severus to catch any emotion in the boys eyes other than anger and pain, but then Potter wasn't that same spoiled child anymore. Severus doubted that he ever had been. When Potter had first arrived at Hogwarts, he had been a quiet, shy child, flinching whenever someone had moved too suddenly or spoke too loudly, cringing when others brought up the deaths of James and Lily. As he became older he opened up more, blossoming under the schools roof and professors care as a fragile moonflower blossoms under the gentle care of the moon. No matter how it hurt to watch the boy as he grew, Severus had and so he had noticed the subtle changes. Harry Potter was so much like his mother, having not only her brilliant emerald eyes, but also her gentle, almost Ravenclaw-like soul. It hurt to know him, but at the same time, he could not wish to have never known him. If he and Lily had had a child together, Severus would've wanted him or her to be like Harry.

"Good morning Severus," Alendi said softly, the curse still evident in her voice.

Responding with equal gentleness, Severus asked, "What are you doing up this early? You're disturbing my class."

"I just wanted to let you know that Severa Valfoy will be taking Potions with me as an independent class on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. However, before I let her know, I will need you to give me permission to do so."

"I'm the Potions professor here, I'll take care of the independent classes."

"Yes, well I thought that it would free up some of your time, so that you can focus on your work with the fourth year independent projects and your own research. And you know how much I've missed teaching Potions."

"Very well then. But if that is your desire, then you may also deal with my problem students."

"You'll let me choose their punishments?"

Severus scowled at the exuberance displayed by his one time schoolmate, "If you must."

Alendi pretended to consider it for a few minutes, half turning from Severus in order to watch the students working on their potions. "Extra Credit."

"What?"

"For those students who fail their daily potions. It would be a chance for those who aren't the best at potions to save their grades. Remember, Professor Winterrowd would do the same thing when we were students ourselves."

Severus nodded, "I remember. It'll do I suppose."

Alendi thanked Severus before she kissed him on the cheek and started to cross the room. Catching Harry's eye, she winked before she, as she passed, bumped into Ron's arm causing him to accidentally drop the ingredients in his hand into Harry's cauldron. Making a show of it, Alendi shook out her robes and checked her dragons-hide slippers for damage. "Oh, these silly robes, I'm always tripping on them." Smiling flirtatiously at Ron she continued, ignoring Harry's snickering. "But I'm sure you understand, don't you? I bet you always have some beautiful woman or another falling into your strong, masculine arms."

A small explosion interrupted Severus before he could reprimand Alendi for distracting one of his students. "Potter! Detention with Professor Dragnon! If you're going to blow anyone up it might as well as be _her_! See me after class for your assignment."

Alendi smirked, as she swept out of the room, her promise to Harry having been partially fulfilled.

* * * *

AN: Many of the songs used in this chapter are not ours, they belong to their respective owners. They are as follows: _Big Ass Rock_ from the Broadway musical A Full Monty; _Dante's Prayer_ by Lorena McKennitt; _You Move Me, Blindside, _and_ All Kinds of People_ preformed by Susan Ashton.


	9. What Choice do We Have

"Now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonored, quelled,

To what can I be useful? Wherein serve

My oration, and the work from heaven imposed!

But to sit idle on the household hearth,

A burdenous drone, to visitants agaze,

Or pitied object." – Milton

I know this is coming out a bit later than planned on our schedule, however I was quite busy recently, as within the last several weeks I had to endure the end of term exams at my university, as well as start at my position with the local probation department. There is no telling when my coauthor will complete the next chapter, however I do believe that it will be within the next two to three weeks. We have come to the conclusion that we work better if we only trade off writing every three chapters, so the next three will be from my colleague. I do hope that everyone will enjoy this chapter and those to come. Thank you for your patronage and your patience.

Hogwarts University

Chapter 7 – What Choice Do We Have

* * * *

            "Good morning class."

            Miss Vesdemort scowled at the high-pitched and energetic greeting of Professor Ivy Flintbottom when she entered the Charms classroom. Lucinda hated having to take Charms, because every year they would have to practice charms and spells they had learned years before, and every year Lucinda would botch it up. It wasn't so bad now that she was in advanced classes, however, there were still the beginning of year reviews.

            "Welcome back to Charms fourth year Britholden girls, Slytherins, and Gryffindors. As I'm sure everyone has noticed there is a singing spell placed on the professors. It is quite a brilliant spell, and I'm quite proud that some of my students managed to pull that level of a spell off. But I must warn you all that such high level spells are difficult to perform and if not done properly will backfire in often most spectacular ways."

            Lucinda rolled her eyes and smiled patronizingly at the professor.

            Ivy smiled indulgently at Miss Vesdemort. "Miss Vesdemort, _Wingardium Leviosa_ if you please."

            "Are you sure about that? You do remember what happened last year, right?"

            Ivy quirked an eyebrow, "There is always hope that you'll eventually get it right. Now if you please, _Wingardium Leviosa_. Swish and flick."

            Lucinda scowled and decided to indulge the professor, even knowing that her spell wouldn't work. Lifting her wand she aimed it at the stool set in the middle of the classroom. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

            There was a smell puff of smoke and a pop, before a group of Gryffindors burst into nervous laughter.

            Professor Flintbottom bustled over to the giggling group of Gryffindors, "Move. Move. Let me see what's happened." Shoving students aside she tutted like a hen. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. How unexpected."

            Lucinda rolled her eyes, she had warned her professor. "What did I do this time?"

            Flintbottom turned to face Lucinda a tolerant smile on her face, a lilac-furred rabbit cradled in her arms. "I'm afraid you turned dear little Frances into a rabbit again."

            Lucinda snickered, "Want me to try again?"

            Flintbottom's smile disappeared as her eyes widened and she took an involuntary step back. "No, no. That's quite all right. Mister Harris could you please take Frances to the Mediwizardry building to get him turned back into himself?"

            The Slytherin keeper nodded before taking the Frances-rabbit from the professor, quickly leaving the classroom before allowing his laughter out.

* * * *

            Dinner that night was a quiet affair even given the rabbit incident and the breaking of the singing curse, as Dean Palmerdore had announced that there was going to be a Quidditch match one week from Sunday. They had yet to determine which teams were going to be playing and were not going to post who was playing until the Friday before the match.

            "Harry, are you going out for the house team?" Ron asked quietly.

            "What is the point? They already have a seeker."

            "I hear she's graduating in the summer."

            "Well then I'll try from seeker next year."

            "But you have to be on the team. I'm going out for Beater and they've got the keeper and a chaser spot open."

            "I'll think about Ron."

            "Well don't take too long. Tryouts are tomorrow night."

* * * *

            "Lucinda."

            The prefect of Britholden house shifted in her armchair before the common room's fire, to look at her mentor. Professor Dragnon was dressed in her dark violet Quidditch robes, her Infinity racing broom in her hand, her silver snitch whistle dangling from its delicate chain around her neck.

            "Yes Professor."

            "I have to supervise the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts tonight. Would you care to assist? There are several things I wish to speak with you about."

            Lucinda nodded, "I'll get my broom."

            Several minutes later the two women were talking quietly as they walked to the Quidditch pitch.

            "You really must work on your lower level charms Lucinda dear. I know that you aren't very gifted when it comes to the basic charms, but even Severus, as hopeless as he is at Charms and Transfigurations, can do a basic _Wingardium Leviosa_ without turning someone into a rabbit."

            "I know Professor, but no matter how much I practice the lower level charms, I just can't get them right. I can do advanced charms with no problems, but the lower level ones…" Lucinda shrugged.

            "Just keep trying dear. I'm sure you'll get them eventually."

            Lucinda glared at her mentor. "I think that both you and Professor Flintbottom are just trying to torture me."

            Alendi smiled serenely at her student. "If we were trying to torture you, I'd be following Professor Snape's example."

            Lucinda's glare fell into a confused scowl, which on her cherubic face looked suspiciously like a pout. "What is he doing?"

            "Severus is turning over his trouble students to me."

            "You?"

            "I get to administer detentions and extra credit potions work. Actually," her face took on a thoughtful expression. "I could use an assistant. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who is qualified, would you?"   
            Stopping Alendi waved to the Gryffindors gathered on the Quidditch pitch. "Good evening everyone." Noticing a lilac mop of hair she waved again, "Ah, there you are Frances. Feeling better I trust?" She asked as he hopped over to Lucinda's side, a noticeable spring in his step.

            "Oh yes, much better." Frances rubbed his nose as it twitched. "Never better."

            Alendi had to bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the young man gazing adoringly at her favorite student as she tried to inch away from him. "I see Mister Potter is here."

            Frances turned his gaze back to the professor. "Oh yes. Mister Weasley managed to convince him to tryout."

            "Really is that so?"

            "Yes. He was reluctant to join, what with all of the Potions homework Professor Snape has given him this week."

            "Does he need any help?"

            Frances turned his adoring gaze back to Lucinda. "I'm sure that he wouldn't want to disrupt your day Professor. But perhaps he's accept help from the best potions student in the school."

            Lucinda rolled her eyes at his excessive flattery. "Must I Professor?"

            Alendi nodded. "Perhaps Mister Potter would respond better to a Potions tutor closer to his own age."

            "I'm sure he'd really appreciate it Miss Vesdemort."

            "Very well, I'll help the Potter brat."

            Alendi clapped her hands, her broom now floating lazily by her side. "Good. Now that that's settled, let's play Quidditch."

* * * *

            Vesdemort grimaced as a familiar shadow trailed over her Harlotry text and she had to force a smile onto her face when she turned. "Can I help you sir?"

            "I was wondering when you were going to help Potter with that Potions assignment that he can't figure out?" Frances asked, kneeling down in front of Vesdemort and setting his hands demurely in his lap. "And I was wondering..."

            "If I was still going tutor him?" the Britholden prefect finished.

            "You don't mind too much, do you?" Frances adopted the guise of a wounded puppy.

            "Have him meet me in the gardens by the statue of Dumbledore," she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to stem an oncoming headache. "What sort of assignment is it?"

            "Some sort of extra credit nonsense with ingredients I've never heard of, though I've never been particularly good at Potions. I prefer Charms."

            "I'm sure you do," Vesdemort groaned at the expression her Harlotry Studies project gave her. "What's the potion supposed to do?"

            "It's supposed to be some healing potion. It's got some foul sounding ingredients: phoenix spleen, werewolf blood- haven't a clue where to get them."

            "Phoenix spleen isn't an organ, it refers to the ash of a newly burned phoenix of a certain age, and werewolf blood refers to the blood of one killed by a werewolf. Not particularly common ingredients, but I know where they can be purchased...for the right price."

            "You're the best, you know that don't you?" Frances launched himself at Vesdemort and embraced her tightly. "I'm looking forward to the Britholden-Slytherin match Sunday after next," he continued, bantering on to prolong the hug that Vesdemort was endeavoring to wriggle out of.

            "I thought you weren't interested in bloodbaths," she chuckled, finally giving up her resistance and slumping back into Frances' embrace. This project was the most humiliating thing she had ever endured. "Mister Kuiper, I do have work that needs to be done, as do you I'm sure. Have you even _begun_ any of your term projects?"

            "I'll get it done in time, don't worry. You're far more interesting than a DADA project." Frances gave what he assumed was an alluring look and gave Vesdemort a quick squeeze.

            "If you don't watch those hands, no DADA lesson you've ever had will save you from what I'll do to you, are we understood?" Vesdemort slithered out of Frances' grasp and, picking up her books, headed back to Britholden house to research the potion she was to help Potter create.

*****

            "Mister Potter, so pleased you decided to join me, seeing as I took a considerable chunk out of my schedule for you." Vesdemort frowned at the first year as she stood, using her broom as a staff.

            "Sorry, Tort caught me on the way out of the house and wouldn't shut up." Harry snarled and cast a look back in the direction of his house. "I appreciate your helping me with this potion. Ron exploded one of ours in class and Snape failed us for the day, the only way I can make it up is with this extra credit assignment."

            "Always glad to help the truly dedicated with their potions, Mister Potter, the fewer fools mixing mayhem in their cauldrons the better. I trust you brought your broom?"

            "I wasn't aware we were flying," Harry frowned. "If you'll give me a moment I'll go get it."

            "No time, we've wasted enough of the day and I don't fancy traveling the marketplace at night. Hop on, we'll both ride my broom." In a flurry of red and black robes Vesdemort sat sidesaddle upon her broom and motioned for Harry to sit behind her.

            "Where exactly are we going?" Harry asked, quickly grasping Vesdemort's waist as her broom shot up into the air at a nauseating speed.

            "The only place to get your blasted ingredients - Knockturn Alley."

*****

            "I don't need extra credit," Harry whispered as he and Vesdemort navigated around the shady characters of Knockturn Alley.

            "Yes you do need the extra credit and please stop worrying, you're more than skilled enough to deal with any problems that come along." Vesdemort sighed then turned to face her pupil. "Now don't you go telling anyone I said this but you're going to be as great as Dumbledore someday Harry, you mark my words. I wouldn't be wasting my time in Knockturn Alley if I didn't believe that." Quickly she turned and continued walking, Harry traveling dazedly behind.

_            There's more to her than I thought_ he mused, observing every aspect of the prefect before him. _She walks with confidence and is unapologetically rude, but she seems to empathize more than people give her credit for._

            "Lucinda Ilzadora Riddle, why aren't you at school?" a deep, commanding voice called, cutting through Harry's reverie and causing the crowded street to part.

            "My father," Vesdemort whispered. "Just stay silent and do as I say." Vesdemort moved to stand between Harry and her rapidly approaching father. "And for Merlin's sake make sure that scar is covered."

            "Lucinda," Alexander Riddle began, his dark brows arching over ice blue eyes, "Why are you away from your studies? You'll never become a Minister if you neglect your classes."

            "Hello father," Vesdemort gave a small curtsy, "I was merely assisting a first year with an assignment per the request of my professor. We came here to collect some items."

            "Do you have a list?" Mister Riddle queried, wishing his daughter to validate her claims.

            "Raymond, kindly hand the list to my father." 

            Harry refrained from scowling at Vesdemort's new name for him and handed his list to the imposing man before him who skimmed the list with a critical eye.

            "This won't come cheap," Mister Riddle mused, his mood lightening and a smile covering his scowl. "Do you have enough to cover this dear?"

            "Raymond's paying, they're for his assignment, not mine, and I'm sure he's got enough to cover it, if not I'll spot him until we can get to Gringott's." Vesdemort's frown never faltered as she looked eye to eye with her father. "How is mother doing?"

            "She had a flu last week but it's cleared up nicely. Your brother sends his regards as well; he's back for a rest after that tournament of his."

            "My brother plays for the Moutohora Macaws, father's fiercely proud of him though he pretends not to be," Vesdemort informed Harry in the same voice one might use to recite the periodic table.

            "Kenneth is a relief chaser this season and a starting beater," Mr. Riddle gloated. "League plucked him straight out of school."

            "And how are Pehrghery and Eve?" Vesdemort began walking toward an unsigned store and Harry followed close at her heels as did Mr. Riddle, who seemed to be a nicer chap than Harry had first believed him to be.

            "They're just fine dear, sent Eve off to Durmstrang this year, as you know, and she's been having a grand time, though it seems Pehrghery is demanding that we withdraw her from Hogwarts as she was sorted into Ravenclaw of all places."

            "I rather saw that one coming, she doesn't have the backbone to be a Slytherin, or even a Gryffindor, heavens forbid." As they entered the shop Vesdemort searched for the shopkeeper. "I'm not going to wait at this counter all day!" she called out after seeing no one there.

            "Keep your cape on you filthy little...Mister Riddle, Miss Riddle, so good to see you about." A gnarled, hunched figure limped out from behind a large swinging shelf. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

            "Devlar my daughter's pupil needs some items, put them on the house account." Mister Riddle handed the shopkeeper Harry's list then turned to his daughter. "Lucinda it was wonderful running into you, do come visit us the next chance you get, your mother has vapors when you're not there."

            "Of course father, send mother my love." The two lightly embraced then Mister Riddle walked out the shop door, vanishing halfway through. "He may not have McGaver's flare for dramatic apparitions, but he's still a showoff." Vesdemort grinned at Harry who chuckled.

            "Here're your items Miss Riddle, you take care of yourself and don't be a stranger!"

            "Of course not Devlar, good day to you." Vesdemort gave a small curtsy then grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on Harry, the less time spent here the better."

            "I thought it was going to be much worse," Harry admitted, hopping onto Vesdemort's broom.

            "You've met my father, it can't get more dangerous than that."

            "He seemed alright to me." Harry held on tighter as the broom shot up into the air, moving faster than before. "Miss Vesdemort, if you don't mind me asking...."

            "The name?" Vesdemort winced. "Harry, that's my kidney you're crushing."

            Harry loosened his grip. "The name," he reminded her.

            "When I got to Beauxbatons I was teased because of my last name. People knew about the more famous Riddle lineage and began calling me Vesdemort- a take on Voldemort you understand. It annoyed the hell out of me at first but then I figured it was better than having everyone know I shared a family tree with Him- not to mention I wanted nothing to do with my idiotic family. Liars and deceivers all of them, expect Pehrghery and myself, we seem to be the family conscious. Ah, here's the University." Vesdemort lowered her broom outside Gryffindor House and waited for Harry to make a hasty dismount. "I'll see you tomorrow after those ingredients have properly cured and we'll begin the potion. If you have any questions in the meantime you know where to reach me, good day Mister Potter."

            "Good day Miss Vesdemort." Harry paused, looking up at the hovering prefect. "You know, I really like Lucinda better." Quickly Harry entered Gryffindor House, leaving a now pondering prefect behind.

* * * *


	10. M is for Muggle

Roz: Well, this took a while (read: a few months) but I thought I'd try and address some issues brought up in the reviews. There is, as requested, more dialog and more description and I've let us tag along with Harry and Co. a great deal more, which was, I will say, a great deal easier once everyone was acquainted with everyone else. The only problem was that once I got started with the description I just kept going, so I didn't get as much done in the page amount as I'd been hoping to. *sigh* Oh well, that just means more chapters, eh? At any rate, enjoy the read.

ZR: .............................. somehow I just can't come up with a response to that. Roz you are... I don't really know how to put it... so I won't. Anyways a belated thank you is due to my precious little sister for beta-ing my chapters. So on with the show...

* * * *

Chapter 8: M is for Muggle

* * * *

The morning air held in it the type of kinetic energy that makes magical creatures dance in anticipation of something wonderful, the kind of air that tickles the throat as it's inhaled and pleasantly burns the lungs, that sticks to the skin like so much muggle sludge and makes you squirm, the kind of air in which evil and good commingle and are moved to a snarling truce- the kind of air that precedes something both terrible and beautiful. A sudden gust spiraled from the heavens and whirled merrily down to the grounds of Hogwarts University, rustling the untamed auburn lockes of Hermione Granger as she ran breathlessly to meet her long time companions, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were at the moment staring intently at the first round Quidditch game schedule with a mixture of disgust and anticipation. The schedule, a long piece of fresh parchment with newly drawn charts detailing the first three matches and the primary players for each team involved, was surrounded by students, each jostling the others for a prime position in front where names were easily decipherable and the blackberry ink Dean Palmerdore had used to draft the document scented the air like a young girl's first bottle of perfume. A sharp elbow connecting with her lower back sent Hermione through the throng of students in a flurry of grey robes, giving her a direct route to the stone wall onto which the game schedule was posted. Fortunately, a pair of strong hands, calloused from several Quidditch seasons and too many adventures to count reached forward in response to a Keeper's honed reflexes and grasped her waist, pulling her away from the wall just moments before impact. "Don't worry 'Mione, I've got you."

"Careful there Mudblood, we wouldn't want you breaking your nose." At the fringe of the crowd stood Draco Malfoy, pale arms crossed over his chest, his lips curled into a defiant sneer that all wizards who had ever had the displeasure of dealing with the Malfoy family recognized as one the wizarding family put to use on a daily basis. 

"Bugger off Malfoy," Ron growled low in his throat, pulling a fuming Hermione closer to keep her from lashing out at Malfoy and endeavoring to claw his eyes out for the third time that week. Nearby, Harry Potter was using the crowd's distraction to give him the opportunity to give the schedule a thorough reading, grinning as he noted that both he and Ron had made the Gryffindor team as Beater and Keeper respectively and that, despite his endless bragging that his father could buy him anything he wanted, Draco Malfoy had failed to make it onto the Slytherin House team. 

"Going to perfect the art of spectatorship this year Malfoy? I didn't notice your name on the Slytherin team roster." Harry managed not to laugh in his rival's face when he saw a flash of pain flitter through Draco's ice blue eyes and be absorbed into the frozen heart of the Malfoy heir, though the Gryffindor couldn't help the smirk that thinned his lips into a nearly sinister line as he thought of Draco resigned to sitting in the stands with those the Slytherin had once called "untalented wastes of skin."

"Quidditch bores me, Scarhead, I can't imagine why you still play that child's game." Draco's posture straightened as he looked out imperiously over the crowd, his eyes catching the jade gaze of the Britholden prefect who shook her head and offered him a smile of sympathy before she turned from the crowd, heading off on whatever business she had for the day, leaving Draco to look to the disgusted scowl of his cousin Severa before she turned to follow her prefect down the corridor and, though Draco knew of Severa's severe dislike for authority, he seemed to sense a certain amount of caution emanating from her when she was near her prefect as though she wasn't particularly convinced that Vesdemort was worthy of her respect but was unwilling to go against the prefect for purposes of self preservation. Ignoring the inane chatter that prattled on behind him like an unchecked river, Draco gathered his evergreen robes about him and stalked off in the direction the two Britholden girls had traveled, curious as to what mischief the house was up to now and, in particular, what part his cousin had to play in the ordeal.

"Where's he going?" Ron asked his friends as they slowly fought their way out of the nimbus of students surrounding the now less-than-fresh schedule.

"Who cares?" Hermione's voice, though not bitter, was coated in the exhaustion she felt every time she was forced to be in the same room with the Malfoy heir who, even after seven years of Mudblood jokes and violent shoves and all manner of despicable comments, did not seem to tire of making her life miserable; she was only thankful that no one seemed to feel that gawking or unnecessary sympathy was warranted by Malfoy's displays. Hermione took in the excited faces of her fellow students and she wondered, nor for the first time, what would become of the wizarding world when people like Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be a more sinister, though less tactful replica of his father, Lucius Malfoy, came into power. Harry Potter could not save them forever, nor could any of the Professors who, as time drew on, were getting older and older. A time would come, Hermione surmised, when the wizarding world would go the way of muggle society; too caught up in the mundane and in the struggle for power to recall its desire to better itself and to harness magic for the benefit of all, wizards and muggles alike.

"Come on 'Mione, let's go get some lunch," Ron called from Harry's side, the two had already moved a considerable distance away from the mob and were heading to the Hall for a light lunch.

"We've got the season's first match," Harry informed Hermione as they walked. It seemed to Harry that fate was evoking some sort of irony in the season's first round of games, pitting Gryffindor against Hufflepuff in the first match which, he assumed, would serve to either cement Gryffindor's loyalties to the Great Triumvirate, as Slytherins were calling the union of Slytherin, Britholden, and Gryffindor, or shatter the newly formed bond of camaraderie and bring forth Gryffindor's demise. If the Gryffindor team were to shirk in the game, Slytherin and Britholden would take it as an attempt to aid Hufflepuff who had been chattering on about their chances of winning the Quidditch Bowl which, in all honesty weren't particularly high seeing as the Hufflepuff house team hadn't won the Quidditch Bowl for at least 200 years and hadn't even made it to semifinals in the last 75. However, the fact still remained that if the Gryffindor team didn't give the match their all instead of simply putting forth enough effort to win the match, the wrath of Slytherin and Britholden would be upon them and not only would all of their players suffer serious, if not fatal injuries whenever playing against the sinister houses, but Gryffindor house at large would become labeled as traitors and outcast from University society. "It's against Hufflepuff," Harry added after a long, pregnant pause.

"Sweet Merlin!" Hermione gasped, adjusting the fall of her cloak so that it was no longer choking her. Though she enjoyed the freedom the University gave regarding dress she found the University's standard cloak to be cut a bit too close to the neck for her liking and the shoulders were cut in such a way that the cloak slipped about when she walked quickly or ran, causing the collar to choke her..

"Easy win," Ron commented, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders after looking about to make sure Cleo wasn't around. The Piagera prefect had been stalking Ron and Hermione around the campus, leaping out of bushes and running around corners to interrupt any private time the two might have had together and although Ron could understand Cleo's reasoning, he would've done the same were it Hermione that had been injured, enough was enough. Ron was really getting quite tired of the mini heart attacks and the spilled beverages and, worst of all, wasted food, and the next time Cleo came barreling down a hall to stop him from kissing his girlfriend he was going to introduce the prefect's face to his fist and the nice, large emerald ring thereon, a rather gaudy piece of jewelry which had been passed down through the Weasley family for generations and had been given to him by his father upon receipt of Ron's invitation to University.

"I wouldn't count on that," Harry whispered, knowing that Hermione and Ron would be too caught up in one another to hear his nearly silent reply. Hufflepuff was by no means a house full of imbeciles and simpletons, it was full of many different wizards and witches from various backgrounds, some of them well meaning and others...not so much, and Harry was willing to bet his broomstick that the more nefarious members of Hufflepuff house were preparing something truly wicked for the upcoming Quidditch match.

*****

"Mister Malfoy, it's quite rude to follow people around, not to mention dangerous. One might think you were a stalker or a mugger of some sort and then where would you be?" Lucinda Riddle stopped her calm stride, holding her hand up to signal to Severa that their hitherto silent walk through the school would be taking a pause while she dealt with Severa's cousin. "But at any rate, to what do we owe the...pleasure of your company?" Lucinda had no real problems with the Malfoy heir, save his insistence that he was superior to everything under the sun, a trait she found reflected in his cousin Severa, but Frances had been bothering her more than usual lately and her ill temper seemed to be spreading to create a general displeasure with humanity as a whole, save a few select wizards and witches who had long ago gained her admiration, such as Professors Dragnon and Snape.

"I was wondering, Miss Vesdemort, if the rumors I heard about you assisting Potter with his Potions assignment were true." The glint in Draco's eyes indicated that the Slytherin was asking for reasons more pressing than mere curiosity and, given the fact that he'd scored poorly on his first Potions exam, a snippet of information Lucinda had garnered from her first year girls, the Britholden prefect was willing to bet that Draco was fishing about for a tutor.

Smirking, Severa watched the interplay between her prefect and her cousin, noting the slight twitch in Draco's left eye as he stood for long moments on end while Vesdemort contemplated his discomfort, no doubt taking some sort of pleasure in it, much as she was herself. Despite several long conversations with the New Zealander, Severa was still unsure of her thoughts on the Britholden prefect, if only because she seemed to be constantly switching personalities. One moment she was quiet and sullen, the next outgoing and bubbly, and then downright evil the next; not that Severa minded the changes, it kept her on her mental toes, but it made figuring the woman out a rather frustrating ordeal that she wasn't sure she cared to partake in anymore.

"You heard correctly," Vesdemort replied at last, taking note that Severa was quite pleased to see Draco squirming where he stood, fidgeting with the hem of his robe, a wondrous, deep green thing. "And why, may I ask, would you be interested in that particular snippet of information, Mr. Malfoy? Could it be that you are not doing as well in Potions as your father might want and, in order to keep in his good graces you are planning to sabotage all other Potions projects in your class so that your projects will be weighted above all others and you'll receive top marks?" 

Draco balked at the prefect, her plan not having crossed his mind before but, now that he thought about it, sabotaging the other students' projects seemed to be a much better idea than asking the prefect for assistance, save that the tricky woman would probably inform Professor Snape of his intentions and ruin the entire endeavor.

"Get on with asking her for help, Draco, I'm beginning to burn in the sun," Severa grumbled, wrapping her robes about her in order to cover more of her pale, delicate skin while swearing silently to herself that, if she did, in fact burn, she was going to see to it that Lucius found out about his son's poor performance in Potions before term grades came.

"I planned to do no such thing, Severa," Draco huffed back, an embarrassed flush coming across his pale features and betraying his lie. In an uncharacteristic moment of pity, Lucinda smiled at the first year Slytherin before turning to Severa and dismissing her with a few flicks of her wrist.

"Now then, Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you can speak the truth out of prying ears, hmm?" The Britholden prefect motioned for Draco to fall in step with her, which he readily did, before continuing her walk around the grounds though, after a good five minutes had passed, Draco still had not addressed her and she was beginning to get annoyed. "How are you getting on with your housemates, Mr. Malfoy? I wager they're a bit different than you're used to dealing with, having been plucked from such a diverse field."

"I was quite disappointed in them, to be honest, so many of them carry such tainted bloodlines, if you understand me." Draco's nose curled at the thought of all the Mudbloods scampering around Slytherin house, putting their dirty Mudblood hands on everything, leaving a thin residue of Mudblood sweat on the couches. Disgusting.

Lucinda frowned at Draco's barely veiled insult to the Muggle-born population of the University, resisting the urge to take her wand and poke one of the blonde's eyes out with it before leveling a _cruciatus _on him. Though she was a Pureblood herself, Lucinda hadn't the capacity for the unqualified hatred that the other members of her family had for Muggle-borns, she simply viewed them as individuals who, unlike herself, weren't gifted with the advantage of magical parents. "That subject is best not bridged with me, Mr. Malfoy, I don't believe you would enjoy the result."

"Miss Vesdemort, where have you been!?" Lucinda's right eyebrow began to twitch in a moment of irritation as Luna's high voice rose high in the air, assaulting all eardrums it reached. The fourth year Britholden ran up to her friend and grabbed her right arm, yanking it back in the direction Lucinda and Draco had just traveled from, oblivious to the obvious irritation on the prefect's face and the amusement on Draco's. "Professor Dragnon has been trying to find you for an hour and a half and if you don't get back to the house soon she's going to have a fit!"

"It would seem that our discussion will have to reconvene at a more convenient time, Draco, my apologies." With a shrill whistle Lucinda held out her hand and her broom, an Infinity named Maelstrom that was well worn, though Lucinda refused to replace it for sentimental reasons, came ripping through the air to her side, ready for her to board so they could be off to Britholden house to speak with Professor Dragnon. 

*****

"I just heard from Angeline Mulligan that Draco's been after Miss Vesdemort for Potions help," Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron, who were both keeping an eye out for any prefects, who would insist that they part immediately and, most likely put them all in detention for 'fraternizing with the enemy.' "Do you think it has to do with the fact that she's helping you with your extra credit potion?"

"Could be," Harry shrugged before starting; he had half an hour until he was supposed to meet Lucinda in the dungeons to finalize the potion and, if he wanted to get something to eat before the grueling tutoring session he best get a move on, once he was in the dungeons Lucinda was adamant that no outside food or drink be present and, like yesterday's review session, if she heard his stomach growl she would call the meeting off and tell him to get something to eat and come find her when he was properly prepared. He'd tried no less than seventeen times to find the prefect after he'd eaten and she seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, a bevy of "She just left here" and "Merlin, you just missed her!" was all he'd managed to come up with. "I'm going up to the house and getting something to eat before I have to go." Without another word Harry left his two bewildered friends standing, looking after him.

"Is it just me or has he been acting rather odd of late?" Ron asked, looping an arm around Hermione's slight shoulders, being careful not to get his rings caught in her long and unruly hair again, he'd already done it twice in the last hour and she was beginning to become upset with him.

"I think he's just worried about his studies," Hermione responded, flicking her hair out of the reach of Ron's infernal rings. "He's already behind in Potions and you know how hard Snape is on him. And on top of that there's a lot to learn Ron, or had you not noticed? If you're going to be successful in University you've got to work hard, something you and Harry seem hesitant to do. You should be putting forth extra effort especially since not even Percy managed to make it into University, but instead of putting your nose in books where it belongs you're getting yourself caught up in this disgusting House War, which I might add, has nothing to do with us first years."

Ron sighed and took his arm off his girlfriend's shoulder, "You're no fun sometimes, Mione, you know that don't you?"

*****

"Lucinda, someone's flooded the bathes again!" Professor Dragon bellowed the moment the prefect entered Britholden house. The last time the bathes had flooded was when Lucinda, prompted by Professor Dragnon, had been practicing some of her lower level spells and, when she'd cast _lumos_ the taps turned on and refused to be shut off for three days.

"I assure you I haven't been practicing Charms in the house, Professor," Lucinda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Why was it that every time something went horribly wrong in the house it was presumed to be the fault of her 'little Charms difficulty' as Dragnon called it. "Perhaps one of the first years forgot the trigger word to turn them off?"

"Sprik's been having vapors all afternoon and she's this close to closing off the baths until all of you girls are out of school." The Harlotry Professor pouted at the thought of losing her precious bathes, the pride and joy of her house and, she though, one of her better ideas.

"I'm sure she'll calm down in a day or so, Professor, but nevertheless I'll call a meeting and talk with the girls this evening about the situation. Perhaps we can come up with something nice for Sprik, for her troubles." Lucinda took out her wand and gave it a swish, frowning when the digital clock that appeared before her informed her that the time was 'Five minutes until your meeting with Potter.'

"Thank you for your time, Lucinda dear, you best be on your way. Oh, and before I forget," Alendi handed a package to Lucinda before turning and walking away, waving over her shoulder. "I managed to get you a special something while on my vacation this summer, I know you'll enjoy."

****

Harry had barely managed to stuff a meat pie into his stomach before he was forced to bolt to the dungeons or risk the Britholden prefect's considerable wrath however, when he arrived five minutes early for his tutoring session, he found that the prefect was, in fact, not there. "If she's going to string me up by my ears if I'm late she might do to be on time herself," Harry grumbled when, at two past, she had not arrived.

Ten minutes later, Lucinda strode in clasping a foot tall cylinder of....something, Harry wasn't quite sure. The tall glass canister, topped by a cork the size of Harry's fist, was reflecting the candlelight in the room eerily, casting shadows off the small oval objects within which, now that he thought about it appeared to be some sort of eggs, in a variety of colors from purple to white to pink to a teal green, all of them speckled with various colors. Perhaps this was the Moonlace that was required for the potion, Lucinda had said she had extra in her room and, as such, they had not picked any up at Knockturn Alley during their visit. 

"Good evening Mr. Potter, I take it you've cured your ingredients?" Harry was startled when Lucinda opened the jar and popped one of the chocolates into her mouth. Taking note of Harry's worried expression the prefect laughed, uncorked the jar and held it out toward Harry. "It's a Muggle candy I found on a Muggle Studies field trip, they're astoundingly good. Professor Dragnon picked some up for me this summer." Hesitantly Harry took one, sure that it was some sort of trick and he would come down with an illness only the healing draught he was brewing would fix. It wasn't until, with a bit of chagrin, Harry found the "M" symbol on the candy that he ate it, delighting in the chocolate covered malt egg. "Good, isn't it?" Lucinda chuckled, snacking another of the Muggle Easter candies. "I believe Professor Dragnon put the M on there to show it was a Muggle candy." Harry refrained from collapsing in a fit of laughter at Lucinda's ignorance.


	11. Barry And the Bees

--
    
    By the time you swear you're his,
    
    Shivering and Sighing,
    
    And he vows this passion is 
    
    INFINATE-
    
    UNDYING,
    
    Make a note of this,
    
    one of you is LYING.

-Ozaki, Minami

Roz: Well this took for-bloody-ever, but it really couldn't be helped. Honest. Moving, moving, moving, working, working, working. It was all very tiring, I assure you. But here it is, chapter nine in all it's chapter nine-ness. Enjoy it for what it's worth and ignore it for what it's not worth.

Chapter 9: Barry and Birds

Harry noted that Lucinda's mind was not completely on the potion they were brewing, though he found it quite interesting that, only paying half attention, she was still able to correct his errors. Thus far, Harry'd been able to pick up a few tricks about stirring (Lucinda said it was always best to stir your mixture slowly and clockwise unless directions specified otherwise), some new uses for monksfoot (Lucinda professed that it could be used as a substitute for curryscow root in most potions and in most cases made the draughts more potent), and had managed to get absolutely no new information about the prefect, herself (Lucinda had scowled at him and threatened detention if he kept speaking out of turn). All in all, he thought as Lucinda accompanied him back to Gryffindor house, it had been a rather pleasant evening.

"Needing someone to walk you home now, Scarhead." Draco Malfoy sauntered up toward them, his thin lips curled in a sneer though his icy eyes held in them something Harry couldn't properly read.

"Are you insinuating, Mr. Malfoy, that I have nothing better to do than baby-sit students?" the Britholden prefect hissed, though Harry could tell she meant Draco no harm. Pity. Yawning, Harry relaxed and prepared to watch Draco tremble and stutter out apologies.

"Not at all Miss Vesdemort, I was simply..."

"Name calling is a bit childish, don't you think?" the prefect continued, taking a moment to wink at Harry as Draco bowed down low in apology, almost as if here were going to drop to his knees and kiss her boots. Sighing inwardly Lucinda was wondering why it was that she was always forced into the most despicable tasks...Potions tutor indeed. Dragnon was probably still mad at her over the entire _Alohamora_ incident last year when she'd caused every lock in the school to explode, injuring three professors, of which Dragnon had been one, and thirty students. It was the first time in years that the hospital wing had been packed full. "Perhaps a few evenings of detention will hasten your maturation, Draco. I will meet you here tomorrow before dinner, I have some Potions work to do and you will assist me. Bring your dragon's hide gloves, wear something you don't mind ruining, and leave your attitude locked securely in your trunk, am I understood?" 

*******

Harry lay on his bed listening as Ron sang along, quite decently he had to admit, to a small radio-thing the redhead had been given last Christmas from Fred and George. The twins had managed to create an orb that randomly received muggle radio, wizarding radio, and eavesdropped in on conversations. Whenever a muggle song would come on Ron would cringe away from the orb and busy himself with his homework. It was, Harry noted, the only time he busied himself with his homework. "If you don't keep your studies up you're going to fail," he tossed off at his friend when the singing faded and sounds of someone named Leola breaking up with her boyfriend, whom had yet to be called anything other than "you bastard" or "despicable dolt" filled the air.

"You're sounding like 'Mione, stop it." Ron snapped.

"What's wrong now?" Harry sighed, "You two didn't have _another_ fight did you?" He took Ron's grunt as assent and decided to change the subject, usually a smart plan when Ron was upset. "Big Quidditch match tomorrow, you think we're ready?"

"We're going to crush those nancy, no good Hufflepuffs into the ground and dance on their graves," Ron snarled, beating his right fist into his palm and grinning devilishly. "I only wish their idiot prefect was on the team so our Beaters could send a bludger right into his idiot..." 

"Ron, I understand you're brassed off at them for interfering with you and Hermione, but don't you think you're going a bit far?" Ron shot him a deathly glare and he gulped but stood his ground, or rather sat his bed as the case may be. "Don't get me wrong, mate, I want to beat them so badly that their children and grandchildren will hear of their miserable defeat and be scorned forever because of it, but dancing on their graves is a bit much, don't you think?"

Ron laughed at Harry's joke but, despite his friend's words, he still floated to sleep with images of little gravestones with the Hufflepuff crest on them, shattered broomsticks lying in a cross above freshly made graves, and the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team dancing around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows (Harry had once shown him how to create this muggle treat and he had to admit they were rather good) and sending off fireworks from their wands.

*****

"Draco, stir more forcefully, the potion will never be done at this rate." Lucinda stood behind Draco in an emerald green sundress and a white Chef's apron that read across it "Witches Brew it Better." The apron was a recent addition to her collection of muggle artifacts and she'd been waiting for the perfect chance to break it in. "Mr. Potter, can you tell me why we would stir a potion such as this more forcefully than, shall we say, a sleeping potion?"

"The ingredients in a sleeping draught, no matter the type, are more fluid and fluid potions should be stirred lightly and slowly as to not damage them. However, in a corrosive spell like this the ingredients are more granular and if you want them to blend properly you must mix quickly and with force." Harry sneered at Draco when Lucinda turned to get something from one of Professor Snape's personal cabinets. Draco glowered back, his eyes promising retribution upon his old rival.

"Draco, stir," Lucinda commanded. "Harry, if you're going to pester us then make yourself useful and make this." She thrust a paper at Harry, who looked at the list and groaned; by the time he finished this potion he'd have just enough time to freshen up before lunch, then the Quidditch match would commence.

"I expect you'll be ruthless in the game this afternoon, Potter," Draco tossed off as he stirred, his arms beginning to get tired though he'd be damned if he'd let it show in front of Potter.

"No Malfoy, I planned on just letting the Bludgers hit me, forget about swatting them at the other teams. Isn't it time we make Quidditch into a more friendly sport? How about we just toss water balloons instead of Bludgers, much nicer don't you think?"

"Draco, send that brew over to this pot will you?" Lucinda motioned to a pot that stood beside her, tapping it on the brim twice with her wand. As the mixture sailed toward her, the prefect eyed it critically. "Perfect, well done Draco. Harry, in all your sarcasm have you managed to get the potion base made?"

"Cauldron's empty," Draco snickered, giving his wand a swish and moving his own cauldron back to its storage shelf.

"Nevermind, I'll do it tomorrow," Lucinda sighed. "Let's go get some food, shall..." Lucinda's eyes lit up and her posture straightened. "Come, quickly!"

"The devil?" Harry asked, pausing before following Lucinda and Draco out of the dungeons and out toward the field, where a large fiery dragon was rampaging across the lawn.

"Well that worked nicely," Lucinda congratulated herself quietly. When she had first arrived on campus she had taken it upon herself as a sort of warm up Charms exercise to place a translocation Charm on an old money pouch and leave it lying about the lawn. The first person to pull out one of the ten galleons within would find themselves faced with a fully grown Norwegian Ridgeback. 

"Where did that come from?" Draco pondered while he watched a Gryffindor run in screaming circles around the dragon, his hand clutching a galleon that seemed a bit shinier than usual.

"Guess that'll teach him to go thieving about," Harry chuckled. "You'll have to show us that one, it's rather beautiful to watch." Draco turned and observed his rival for a moment, his brows knit in frustration. Potter hadn't been acting at all like Potter in the last week and it was getting bothersome, particularly for Draco, who had made a study of the Gryffindor poster child since they had first met so many years ago. Harry's chin was held a little higher these days and his sense of humor was a bit darker; more sharp and morbid. If he didn't know better, he'd have bet a thousand galleons that this Harry Potter wasn't Potter at all, but some old Hogwarts School Slytherin having some fun with a bit of Polyjuice Potion. The thought of Harry tied up and starving in a basement while some sinister character masqueraded around in his likeness was enough to bring a chuckle from low in Draco's throat, catching the attention of both Harry and Lucinda. Harry immediately dismissed it as another of Draco's idiosyncrasies and Lucinda, after lifting a questioning brow was too taken up in the glory of her Charms experiment to care about some First Year Slytherin indulging in fantasies.

"Nicely done Vesdemort, what're you doing for an encore?" a snide voice rung through the air, cutting Lucinda's joy short. Standing before her was Barry Erdman, the bane of her existence. The rat had been pestering her endlessly since she was a First Year and took any opportunity he could to tattle on her to the Cadaver, seeing as he was her favorite student.

"We all know I can't do Charms to save my life, Erdman, now go run to the Cadaver, for a moment I was beginning to think a bit of your own foul stench was beginning to break through the scent of her rotting bitterness." Professor McGaver wore a very...distinctive perfume that she blended herself, from the blood of expelled students no doubt.

"Oh look, it's your mangy little bird, seems like she's contracted leprosy. Don't you take care of your pets, Vesdemort?" The tall blonde looked toward Rhaja who had most definitely had worse Burning times, but now that her Burning Day was but a few days off, she really shouldn't have been out at all. Of course, telling the bird this and having her listen was a different matter entirely. Rhaja was quite like her master and refused to show any sign that she might not be feeling up to par, like the time Lucinda had contracted pneumonia and collapsed in the middle of Potions because she had decided not to disclose her illness to anyone, particularly the Mediwizardry personnel and Professor Dragnon, who then forced her to stay in her bed for a week and drink purposefully nasty recovery potions.

"Rhaja is quite capable of taking care of herself, Erdman, now scamper off, I have students here and I don't want them to contract any of your stupidity." Here she turned to Harry and Draco with a tight smile. "Mediwizardry still can't find a cure for a case as severe as his, but a few good thwacks with a broom ought to smarten you two up again." A pained squawk cut through the air and all three turned to see Barry pluck a feather from Rhaja's tail, holding it in front of himself in disgust.

"This thing smells horrid, why don't you let me put it out of its misery. We can't have it flying around infecting other animals with whatever disease it has."

"First, phoenixes do not contract diseases, which any first year apprentice would know. And second, I suggest you get your wand out because _no one_ touches my things without asking." Lucinda pulled her wand out of an apron pocket before taking the beloved item off and handing it in a folded pile to Draco. "I trust you'll keep it safe."

"Remember what happened last time we dueled, you almost got expelled?" Barry seemed hesitant to draw his wand, taking a few steps back, fear flickering in his hazel eyes, bringing the highlights of green he had inherited from his mother to the fore.

"And you almost got killed. Pity that last one missed the mark, I would've loved to look into your dead eyes, I imagine they would be quite lovely." Lucinda flicked her wand and an invisible barrier began to grow around her and Barry, pushing what few onlookers there were back. "Can't have you running away."

****

"Miss Riddle, I believe you know why you're here." Professor McGaver's skeletal face peered at Lucinda from behind carefully folded and raised hands. McGaver's office, which appeared more like a cave to the prefect, was a large place with tall stone walls and a sloping ceiling, though there was but one thing adorning the entirety of the room, save volumes of texts placed alphabetically and categorically on sunk in shelves, and that was a poster that read in letters that flashed from black to red to gold to silver, "Obedience Saves Lives." 

"There are actually several things that I could be here for, Professor McGaver, but I don't want to go incriminating myself, now do I?" She spared a kind, sweet smile for the decaying woman before her. "So, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you possibly paraphrase the incident in question so that we might come to a solution together?" The last bit had been regurgitated verbatim from Lucinda's first visit to McGaver's office in her first year when she had disapparated Barry's left arm after stunning him and flying him off school grounds. Had the incident not occurred out of school jurisdiction, McGaver would've expelled her. 

"I am referring, Miss Riddle, to your duel with Mister Erdman this morning, in which you performed several spells whose use have been banned from this campus, as you may well know seeing as you're the reason these spells were banned in the first place." A skeletal hand raised to point at the seemingly calm prefect who was sure that this would be the incident that tipped the scales out of her favor. She could torment students so long as none of them had lasting injuries; that was the silent agreement between the two that had been the outcome of their first meeting and, until now, Lucinda had kept to that agreement. "You are aware, of course, that we have yet to find a counter-charm to whatever you did to him. Your punishment might be less severe if you cooperate with us."

"I haven't a clue what happened. I was endeavoring an _Expelliarmus_ and everything went wrong." It wasn't a complete lie, she had been thinking about the charm and then had decided, at the last moment, to improvise; the result of that being Barry's wand exploding in a fantastic show of colors and knocking him into a coma, his body swathed in a sheet of electricity that nothing seemed to be able to penetrate. It was Lucinda's all time best work and she had no idea if she could ever replicate it.

"I'll be speaking with Dean Palmerdore on this incident and in the meantime you're suspended from all school activities, including the observation of this afternoon's Quidditch match." McGaver's fingertips drummed lightly against one another as she peered over her partly clasped hands at a white-faced Lucinda. "Struck a cord, have I? Don't think that I don't know that you were the cause of all this dissention between the Houses, a child of evil could breed no less. Your father was a worthless cur and was tossed out of the Ministry for it, I doubt you'll do any better _if_ you even get that far. All of the Wizarding World knows the worth of a Riddle." Lucinda's body shook in small tremors and she refused to look up into McGaver's contented face. "You may leave my office now."

*****

"Did you hear about Miss Vesdemort?" a Hufflepuff asked his companion in an unusually loud whisper. 

"I heard she and Barry Erdmann from Gryffindor House got into it and she killed him!" a Piagera replied, not bothering to pretend secrecy; she knew the facts and wanted everyone in the Great Hall to know it.

"She'll be expelled, no doubt," the Hufflepuff replied, his gamine features smug and satisfied.

"Walled up in Azkaban if there's any justice in this world," a Gryffindor chimed in, warming to the discussion. "Have you noticed the members of Britholden are nowhere to be seen?"

"They're probably hiding in shame, I know _I_ would be if Feiffer ever committed such a heinous act," a second Hufflepuff added in passing.

"Maybe Erdmann is a git and deserved what he got," Harry called as he walked past the gossiping gaggle, not bothering to stop and relish their looks of disgust. He knew he was bound to hear a bevy of "Potter's gone mad" and "what's gotten into him" when he next came into the Great Hall and couldn't find it in himself to care. These people were idiots and their opinions weren't worth consideration. Despite his words though, he wasn't entirely sure that what Lucinda had done was the proper thing. She had entrapped Erdmann and fried the living Hell out of him, not particularly sporting. Of course, from what he heard of their past, the two were never sporting. Deciding that he'd had enough of his fellow schoolmates, Harry made his way out to find Lucinda and see if she had been expelled yet. Knowing the Britholden prefect as he did, Harry was betting she would be in the gardens under the statue, brooding to herself and hoping no one noticed.

*****

On unsteady feet Lucinda made her way to the gardens, where she sat under her favorite statue, one of Professor Dumbledore. She recalled her first day at Hogwarts and how the old man had been the only one not to cast a wary glance at her, the only one not afraid of her lineage and it's taint. "I don't know why I even bother," she sighed, leaning back against the statue's pedestal and sinking to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her robes tightly about her.

"Because if you don't then everyone else wins," came a tired reply. Harry, his face pale and haunted sat down next to the prefect. 

"You've been thinking unpleasant thoughts," Lucinda remarked, eyeing him critically "and you should be eating lunch in preparation for the match." The last thing Lucinda wanted was some first year fuddling around her when she was feeling wretched, though fate always seemed to enjoy giving her wretchedness an audience.

"After you smashed Erdman the Gryffindors started wondering if me taking Potions lessons from you was the wisest course of action, seeing that _everyone_ knows you're tutoring me and _no one_ will ever let me live down how poorly I did in it at Hogwarts School." Harry made a sour face at the memory then turned his attention to stare off toward the Quidditch field. "Whatever made Erdman decide to study law in Gryffindor was definitely not working in his better interest. Now that you've more or less offed him, Gryffindor house is terrified that you'll do the same to anyone who crosses you in the House War.

"It's going to be odd not hunting the Snitch, isn't it?" Lucinda asked, following Harry's gaze and taking the first opportunity possible to steer the conversation away from the incident with Erdman.

"It's not going to be too bad, being a Beater's a lot different, you have a different mindset. Instead of dodging and running, you stand your ground and hunt out others; I like that." Harry frowned and turned back to the forlorn prefect, crossing his arms over his chest and standing up so he cast a shadow on her huddled form. "What were you worrying about? And don't tell me that first years shouldn't meddle in the affairs of prefects because I'll be forced to hit you, and I _can_ do a proper _Expelliarmus._"

"Touche," Lucinda grumbled, getting to her feet with a faint smile. This was almost like her discussions with Professor Snape back in the Slytherin common room at Hogwarts School. Late at night Lucinda would be up studying with her books, quills, and scrolls scattered about the floor and Snape would come in, frowning because it was "past the time all horrid little children should be in bed." Lucinda would then go on about some problem she was having with her classmates, at which point Snape would tell her to set a nasty trap for whomever was bothering her as "seeing your enemy flounder about in misery always seems to dissipate your own." Lucinda studied Harry for a moment as he glowered at her in what she assumed was disapproval and smiled at him with a touch of the weariness she felt showing. "I was just thinking, Mr. Potter, about the nature of evil."

"And why would you be doing that?" was the immediate response, even as Harry unconsciously looked off in the direction of McGaver's office. 

"Imagine yourself the progeny of a long line of dark wizards and witches, most of them harmless due to their bumbling idiocy, but some of them with enough skill and power to do truly horrible things." Lucinda motioned for Harry to follow her along the garden's path. "Now can a person of such a lineage be anything other than what it sprung from? Can a heart of pitch and stone create one of flesh and blood? Or does it create something of a mutant heart? And what good can the sensibilities, tarnished by birth as they are, ever amount to?"

"You're not evil if that's what you're getting at." Though Harry was quick to reassure Lucinda of what he perceived her fear to be, the prefect's words had given him pause. 

"I'm talking in abstract, Harry not in the particular." Lucinda stopped at bush of amaryllis and looked at it for a moment before sighing. "We have not yet come to a decision on our original question: how does one become evil? Is it something one is born with or something that is acquired slowly over time? When have you crossed the line to stand firmly on the side of evil and what does evil constitute? Is it a conscious process or does the fact that someone is labeled evil reside solely on the outlook of others? Is it some comparative that we've devised to mark out individuals that our morals and honor cannot accept?"

Harry paused, giving the question good thought, and couldn't think of a bugger-all thing to say besides, "I don't know."

"You see Harry, the problem is that no one knows the answer to that question." Lucinda's gaze was far off again, focused on something near the horizon. Her eyes glinted in the fading sun and Harry thought he caught a saline haze sliding slowly over them. "We can say 'that's evil' and mean it with all our hearts, but we couldn't, for the life of us tell you why it's evil. Take Voldemort for example." Harry most certainly did not want to take Voldemort for anything. In fact, he'd rather the name never be mentioned again, particularly since with the name came seven years of bloody memories that he'd rather like to forget. "He was once just Tom Riddle, the annoying son of my grandfather's adopted muggle brother. At some point he became the greatest evil the Wizarding World has ever known. But was it the first killing that turned him? The ideas and hatred roiling in his head? What makes him so very different from every other cruel person out there or every other man who's ever killed to back up his beliefs? Perhaps Tom was only doing what he thought to be right, maybe to him _we_ are the evil ones."

Harry didn't respond, couldn't really for he had nothing to add to that. He had hated Voldemort with an intensity he was sure he'd never feel again and he was fairly sure that Voldemort felt the same about him. Despite this, he couldn't say what it was that made Voldemort evil, it was just a feeling he got when he heard the wizard's name, a churning in the pit of his stomach whenever they had come into contact with one another. With a sigh Harry followed Lucinda's stare and his eyes came to rest upon a remarkable sunset. The clouds were thin wisps in the air, alight like phoenix fire in shades of orange and red with thin streams of pure white around the edges. "So what got you thinking about all this mess?" he asked, his eyes still watching the dropping sun. "It's not something you'd just come up with out of the blue."

"I was just wondering where I fit into it all," she admitted through a sigh. The sigh told Harry everything he needed to know about why the prefect was pondering evil. It held in it loneliness, despair, and confusion; all emotions Harry knew well. 

"You're not evil, we already covered that," he said, this time his voice held a little more sympathy, though he couldn't figure out why Lucinda Riddle would conceive herself an evil person. She was ambitious, true. She was direct, almost to the point of tactlessness. But Lucinda had never failed to take care of her housemates or her friends, at least that Harry had heard of and although he knew that Frances was a thorn in Lucinda's side, she hadn't lifted her wand to him once. Harry took a moment to wonder when his opinion of the prefect had changed and realized that it was while he had been learning Potions that he had come to tolerate her. Though she was decidedly difficult at times, Lucinda had taught him what he'd need to know for Dragnon's "special project" and some besides. No evil woman could've done the same.

"So sure of that are you, Mr. Potter? So sure that I'm not evil even when you cannot pinpoint what it is that would make me evil?" Lucinda stretched her neck to either side, popping the bones back into place before turning to look at Harry with earnest green eyes. "Consider these things, some traits I've noted in some we might call evil. Number one, willingness to use the Dark Arts."

"If it's to defend yourself or protect others, there's no problem with it." Harry was quick to reply, seeing as he'd used the Dark Arts for such a purpose and _he_ most certainly wasn't evil.

"But in the context of an offensive attack in, say a duel?" Harry didn't like the look in Lucinda's eyes but was forced to reply anyhow.

"Wrong of course." He couldn't bring himself to say it was an evil act, particularly when he knew that Lucinda had once used a Dark spell in a duel. The feeling that he was being lead into a verbal trap intensified as the prefect continued to question him, leaving just enough time for him to respond before pressing on.

"Striving for mental control of another?"

"Most definitely wrong," Harry said with conviction. Lucinda asked question after question until she had tried Harry's patience.

"Murder of a rival?"

"I don't see what any of this has to do with you being evil." During the questioning Harry's head had come to rest lightly on the pedestal he was using as a backrest. It was almost time for him to prepare for the Quidditch match and he couldn't go into the game with dark thoughts dancing in his head; he'd get distracted.

"Don't you? my first year here I was in detention for half a year for use of the Dark Arts in a duel, well thirty six duels to be precise. Emilia Dixon still can't cast a proper spell because of what I did to her. And then you look at what I did to Erdmann today, without even thinking." Lucinda took a deep breath and stood up. "But don't worry about it Harry, it's just me being hormonal or some such nonsense, it'll be gone before too long. Now why don't you start getting ready for the Quidditch match, we're counting on you lot to trounce Hufflepuff."

"Where will you be sitting, I'll try to launch one of the Hufflepuff players your way for a good beating." Harry smiled, glad they had dropped the subject.

"I'll be sitting in my room, in detention where the Cadaver wants me." Lucinda shrugged and stretched her arms above her head. "Could be worse, I could've been expelled." She patted the top of Harry's head and strode off toward Britholden House, a gesture Harry was not fond of at all. "Bloody 'em good!" she called over her shoulder.

Harry decided that if Ms. Riddle mussed his hair like that again the Hufflepuffs would not be the only ones getting bloodied. All thoughts of evil and old enemies gone, Harry ran off to Gryffindor House to don his Quidditch uniform and prepare to give Hufflepuff a taste of bludger. Harry had studied the stats and listened to Rita go on about Hufflepuff's players; there was no way they were going to lose.


	12. Going Under

**Hello there. I know that it's been a long time since you last read this story, and well, due to the way things have been the last year I can't blame you if you thought that we had in fact abandoned it. I have not. I will assure you that I have started on Chapter 13 - Sick of the Lie and have finished Chapter 12 - In Places No One can Find. Please enjoy what I have written here for you, my darling readers. Zarra.**

**Prior note follows:**

**As there were issues regarding this previously, here is a short breakdown of the characters by house. Please take notice that only those in _Italics_ are key players to the story whether now or in the future. **

**Britholden – _Lucinda Riddle_, _Luna Jinxy_, Jemma Mariposa, Melinda Bulstrode, _Belladonna de Russou_, Marisol Morley, Indiga Montoya, Mandy Brocklehurst, _Emily Shivas_, Tanya Solenda, Sabina Weilsey, Severa Valfoy.**

**Slytherin – _Richard Jannen_, _Draco Malfoy_, Lara Flintlock, Mary Krause, **

**Gryffindor – _Frances Kuiper_, _Harry Potter-Snape_, _Ronald Weasley_, Vale Keys, Mr. Adler, _Kathryn Wolff_, **

**Ravenclaw – Elaine Cronk, _Amanda Morse_, **

**Hufflepuff – Feiffer Goodwin,**

**Piagera – Cleo Zilbergeld, _Hermione Granger_, Saris Lange, …**

**HU HU HU HU **

"**Don't want your hand this time, I'll save myself. Maybe I'll wake up for once. Not tormented daily, defeated by you. Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom, I'm dying again. I'm going under."**

**HU HU HU HU **

**Hogwarts University**

**Chapter 10 – Going Under**

**HU HU HU HU **

**October 13, 1998 – one month after the GH Quidditch match**

**HU HU HU HU **

**Slamming the door to their dorm room in Ron's face after dinner did absolutely nothing to calm the rage burning its way through Harry's veins, his father, the bastard, wouldn't even acknowledge him. It's not like he wanted to kill the man or anything. All he wanted to do was talk to him, to tell him what he and Alendi had discovered, but of course Snape wouldn't even grant him five minutes to talk.**

**"Damn him… and damn me for wanting him to care." Harry muttered as he stormed into the Gryffindor common room.**

**"Harry?"**

**When Harry turned he saw one of the other first year students, a bright young Texan formerly of Malgram School. **

**"What do you want Wolff?"**

**"Just to talk, you seem upset. Of course the cussin' might have had somethin' to do with it." As she shook out her pale hair, she laughed. "And I told you to call me Kathryn, or Katie whichever you prefer."  
"You are an odd one, you know that right?"**

**"Of course. Now what were you upset about, or do I have to tickle you into telling."**

**Harry's lips quirked into a soft smile, "Just Potions."**

**Kathryn frowned at him; "Don't you go giving me that Mister Harry Potter, it's got to be something bigger than just Potions class to be getting you this riled up."**

**"Can we go somewhere private to talk about this then?"**

**"Sure, I know the perfect place."**

**HU HU HU HU **

**_'What the bloody devil does Potter think he's doing, barging into my office like that. Couldn't he tell that I was busy? He nearly ruined the _Wolfsbane _I was making for Lupin.'_ Severus was more than a little upset about Potter interrupting him while he was working on a potion. Naturally if it had been anyone else he wouldn't have reacted as badly, but he had been treating Potter with contempt ever since he first stepped foot into Hogwarts' Great Hall, and he wasn't about to stop just because the boy was a university student now.**

**A knock on his door interrupted his musings. "Severus may I come in?"**

**"If you must."**

**Alendi leisurely walked through the Potions office, examining the various containers lining the walls, stalling for time, until she could delay no longer. Her dark violet robes whispered softly as they brushed against the stone of the floor and the wool of Severus' pants as she reached his side. "I noticed that Harry was a bit upset with you at dinner. Care to tell what that was about?"**

**"No."**

**Alendi sighed and sat on the edge of his desk, preventing him from going back to his grading. "Severus."**

**The slight edge of warning in her voice prompted him to reply warily. "Potter showed up during my official office hours wanting to 'talk' and interrupted me during a delicate phase of the _Wolfsbane_ potion. So _naturally_ I ordered him to leave."  
Heaving a sigh, Alendi shook her head. "Severus all he wanted to do was talk to you. It is no crime to want that."**

**"I know that, but you very well know how I am when I am in the process of making a potion. You _are_ the same way yourself."**

**"Not all the time. And if it is a student, I at least let them tell what it is that they want before I kick them out of my office. Besides which, you really should be nicer to him. I doubt that there are very many people out there who truly understand you the way he and I do."**

**Having had her say, Alendi slid off of his desk and padded across the room, her braid swinging gently against her back. With a soft sigh the portrait partially closed behind her, allowing Severus to hear a pop indicating that Alendi had shifted into her animagi form.**

**India would be prowling the school tonight.**

**HU HU HU HU **

**Pulling Harry across campus came as no small task for Kathryn, as Harry had taken exception to being dragged around the school like a satchel.**

**"Where are we going?"**

**Kathryn turned to look at her housemate. "You'll know sooner if you'd stop kicking up a hissy fit like a wet cat." With that said she pulled on his arm, once more dragging him along behind her.**

**"What's that supposed to mean?"**

**Rolling her eyes Katie let go of Harry again, with the exception that this time she kept walking. "You wanted somewhere private to talk, so that's where we're goin'." Pointing to the Victorian house directly in front of her, she continued. "_That's_ where we're goin'."**

**"Britholden House!"**

**Letting out an agitated sigh, Katie walked back to her still companion. Grabbing his arm she pulled him the remaining meters to the door of the house and knocked softly.**

**A moment later the door opened to reveal the face of fourth year Jemma Mariposa. With a quick look at the pair and the space behind them, she asked for the password.**

**"Frances Rabbit!"**

**Nodding, she motioned them into the house. It wasn't until the door was shut firmly behind them that she spoke again.**

**"Welcome to Britholden. What is your business with our house young Gryffindors?"**

**Kathryn bowed her head slightly to the older girl. "We needed someplace to talk where what is said will go no further than the room we are in."**

**Jemma smiled at that; "You are in the right place then. Whatever is said in Britholden goes no farther than the door, and nowhere beyond. Provided it is said in confidence."**

**"The strictest."**

**"Naturally." Jemma motioned for them to follow her up the stairs. "You may use either the upstairs common room, or if you want more privacy than that affords, you can use my dorm room."**

**"Thank you."**

**Harry followed silently behind the two young women as they lead him upstairs. Even though he was inside Britholden house for the first time, he had no interest in the lavish surroundings, his mind far more occupied with the how and what of what he had been dragged here to tell the other Gryffindor.**

**Coming to a stop at the top of the stairs, Katie looked around the well decorated room, taking in the small intimate gatherings of tables and chairs, spaced far enough apart that the conversation at one grouping would not be easily overheard at another. "I think this'll do. We can talk at that table over by the window."**

**Jemma took note of the distracted look on Harry's face as she turned to go. Touching his arm softly she leaned over and asked quietly, "Do you want me to stay? Would it make it easier if you had more than one person to talk to?"**

**With a surprised look, Harry nodded, he had not expected that the older girl would care enough to want to listen. "Thank you. But if you don't mind my asking, why would you care enough to stay and listen to me pour out some sob story?"**

**Jemma looked surprised at the question. "Well you need someone to listen to you, and because Professor Dragnon and Miss Vesdemort seem to like you well enough, so you must be alright. Besides you're cute so why wouldn't I listen to you."**

**Her answer caused the two Gryffindors to start laughing quietly. Harry smiled warmly at the older witch, "Thank you. I think I needed that."**

**Jemma held up her left index finger in front of her face in a shushing motion. "Laughter is good for the soul, no matter what your father may say on the matter."**

**Harry paled to the point that his naturally pale skin was now a ghostly shade of white. "How did you find out?"**

**Jemma's eyes showed her concern as she answered. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You two look nearly identical when you scowl and sweet Merlin, it's pretty obvious to those who know to look for out of the ordinary things that you are more than his match in everything. Not to mention how obvious it is when you two are standing next to each other."**

**The young blond Gryffindor standing next to Harry looked lost at this point. "What are you talkin' about?"**

**Harry smiled slightly at his companion, his skin starting to return to normal, his mysterious emerald eyes tinged with sadness as he gazed deep into Kathryn's own ice blue ones, the same shade as Draco's own. "That is what I wanted to talk to you about." Sitting in one of the plush velvet armchairs, he stared out the window at the distant Quidditch pitch, which was brightly lit for one of the house teams' practice. After a moment of staring pensively out the window, he turned to look at the two young women who were now seated in the other two seats of the grouping. "Professor Dragnon and I have been working on a _Parentus Revalus_ potion for the past month. Miss Riddle's tutoring was a cover Alendi came up with, so that I could get the ingredients without anyone noticing, and to help me improve my technique. The _Parentus Revalus_ potion is very difficult and I had to brew it on my own. Alendi was pretty much there to make sure that nothing blew up while it was being made and to explain to me what I was botching up. We went through six attempts before I could brew it properly. My father is the resident potions master in this family, not I. I'll never be as good as he is at potions, but then I suppose he's not as good at Transfigurations and Charms as I am. At least that's what Alendi says."**

**Kathryn's eyes grew wide with shock as she realized what he was telling her. "Professor... Professor..."**

**Harry smiled sympathetically, "Yes Professor Snape is my father. Even though I've suspected it for several years, it was still quite the shock to receive confirmation of my suspicions."**

**HU HU HU HU **

**The next day dawned bright and clean, the sun casting a brilliant gilded glow across the University. The air was crisp but pleasant, though it warmed steadily through the morning. When the noon hour came, the day had evolved into a comfortably warm day, with plenty of sunshine and a few fluffy white clouds lazily drifting overhead. Deciding to take advantage of the exceptionally good weather, which was rare for October, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kathryn decided to take their lunches outside to the commons. It seemed that they were not the only ones to do so, as it proved difficult finding a somewhat private place to sit. Finally selecting a large oak, they settled down to eat and talk, never noticing that there was someone sitting in the branches of the tree above them.**

**"So Harry, mate, what was that all about last night? I mean you slammed the door right in my face and you wouldn't talk to anyone at dinner and then you disappeared for most of the night."**

**Harry gave his best friend an apologetic look and struggled within himself to gather the courage to tell his two best friends what was going on. "I was upset. I had just learned some… delicate… information, the night before. And before dinner I had gone to talk to someone about it, but they wouldn't listen and threw me out of their office."**

**Katie placed an arm around Harry's shoulder and encouraged him to lean into her using soft strokes of her fingers on his arm. After a moment of silence Harry slumped into her petite frame relaxing as much as he could with tumultuous emotions flowing through his veins, disrupting his breathing to the point that he started to hiccup. The soft murmuring of Katie's voice calmed him further, as did the hand Hermione placed on his knee. Though he could see that her expression was confused, her concern and love for him eclipsed it and Harry could feel himself start to smile softly as his hiccups subsided.**

**"Come on Harry, you can tell us what it is. We've been through so much together that I'm sure whatever you have to tell us can't destroy what we've built together. You are our friend and we love you, and we always will."**

**"Yeah come on mate, you can tell us anything. I don't care what it is, even if you're going to tell me that I was right for once and Hermione was wrong. Even though we all know what that means," Ron added with a wicked grin, jokingly referring to a long ago conversation.**

**Hermione responded to that by slapping her boyfriend's arm and smiling encouragingly at Harry. "Whenever you're ready, we're here for you."**

**Harry took a deep breath and promptly winced when he hiccupped at the same time, causing his stomach to ache quite painfully. Once he had caught his breath he started to put the whole painful experience into words. "You remember the conversation we had last year about how I wasn't looking like my father anymore, but was looking more like someone else." Looking pointedly at Ron, he watched as understanding lit in his best friend's eyes, and then when he promptly started to laugh his head off.**

**"I don't understand."**

**Ron for once having beaten Hermione on the uptake, motioned for Harry to not say anything further until after he had had his say. "You might happen to remember that was the conversation where I," Ron puffed out his chest, only to be hit in the stomach by Hermione, "Hey! Anyways that was the conversation where I mentioned that Harry looked more like Snape than he did James Potter. You said that that wasn't possible."**

**"What does that have to do with this conversation?"**

**Katie smirked, "Everythin' I'm afraid."**

**Ron's smile widened, "Exactly. What it means Mione, is that I was right and you were wrong and Snape _is_ Harry's father."**

**To the amusement of everyone sitting in their group and to the immense surprise of the young man in the tree, Hermione became completely flustered and cursed _very_ loudly. "Damn! Damn! Double damn! Triple damn! FUCK!"**

**Ron leaned over to talk to Harry and Katie quickly, "And here she is always telling me not to curse and then what does she do, she curses."**

**This comment sent Harry and Katie into fits of laughter, Ron smiling triumphantly, while Hermione stood completely unhinged swearing to the point that even sailors would be blushing.**

**The young man sitting in the tree above them smiled in secret amusement before with a small pop he transformed into his animagi form and flew from the tree. The group below taking no notice of the small pure-white falcon as it soared above them for a moment before wheeling around to return to Slytherin House.**

**HU HU HU HU **

**Later that afternoon, after classes were over for the day, Draco returned to Slytherin House, for once silent. Ignoring everyone in the common room, Draco wandered through the twisting dungeon-like hallways that lead to all of the house bedchambers. His own was up several flights of narrow spiral staircases, at the top of the house's only tower. It was a room few ever chose to live in and had, before he had gotten a hold of it, been in the worst shape of any of the chambers. Now it was a lush hidden away paradise that only Draco knew the password to.**

**The once tattered and torn window and bed curtains had been replaced with fine, heavy silk ones; the decaying four-poster bed had been replaced with a carefully crafted canopy bed, and all of the old battered furniture had been replaced with items taken from storage at his parent's home. Each of the pieces had been handpicked by Draco from his late grandfather's collection, each a work of art. The worn rug had been replaced as well, with one that was far more suited to the room's new spirit.**

**Draco had transformed the room into a chamber that any Slytherin or Britholden would be proud to reside in.**

**All of the wood furniture now consisted of lovingly crafted purple-heartwood, and the tattered curtains and bed sheets were replaced with vibrantly colored hunter green silk ones. The armchairs and cushions on the window seat were upholstered in a brilliant royal purple. The stone walls had been enchanted to look like a forest clearing, the door invisible when closed. The window, along with its accompanying cushion-heavy window seat, took up nearly an entire wall of space, and was the only noticeable exception.**

**It was into these cushions that Draco curled his petite frame, after he had carelessly tossed his schoolbooks onto his impeccably made up bed. After having thought of nothing else during his afternoon classes, he could honestly say that he believed Weasley now, not that he had before. When he had first heard them speaking he couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it. He had thought of it all through his afternoon classes. His inattention in class had resulted in a detention, but he could not find it within himself to care, for he had clearly seen that his previous perceptions of Potter were not in fact true, but were instead lies built up to change the truth of who Potter really was. **

**"I guess I can't call him Potter anymore," he murmured softly to himself, "But I can't call him Snape either. What do I do now?" Delicate tears started to flow over his aristocratic cheekbones and down alabaster shin to be absorbed into the depths of plush velvet and satin pillows.**

**Nearly an hour later a knock on the door startled Draco from his musings. Quickly wiping the remaining tears off of his cheeks, he conjured a mirror to inspect the damage wrought by his tears. The face gazing back at him was as pale and delicate as ever, perfection in its grief.**

**"Draco are you alright?" The voice of the Slytherin Prefect brought Draco out of his revere.**

**"I'm fine."**

**"May I come in? I'd like to talk to you."**

**Draco quickly placed the mirror face down on his nightstand as he artfully arranged himself in a nearby armchair with one of his hastily grabbed textbooks open in his lap. "You may enter."**

**If the prefect had expected to find anything amiss when he entered Draco's private haven, then he was sorely disappointed, for Draco did not look distraught as he had anticipated. Instead the young Slytherin looked quite well, if a little tired, the open textbook indicating that he had been enraptured with his reading when Richard had knocked. But as every Slytherin knows, appearances can be and often are highly deceiving. "I understand that you received a detention in one of your afternoon classes today Draco not to mention that you missed dinner. Would you care to explain?"**

**The steel edge, so reminiscent of his father prompted Draco to answer truthfully for once. "I was distracted. I overheard a conversation this afternoon that… it wasn't what I was expecting to hear. I've spent all afternoon thinking about it and… Well it's rather personal and I'd rather we not talk about it."**

**Richard nodded slowly, "Don't let it distract you further, or your studies will be affected. Contrary to what some may think, I believe that you were placed in this house for far greater purposes than to be a mere businessman or politician. I believe that you will be great, but not in any way that has yet been anticipated." Richard turned to leave. "And get some rest you look exhausted."**

**HU HU HU HU **

"**I've got to breathe, I can't keep going under."**

**HU HU HU HU **


End file.
